“Still quick on your feet,” he muses, not even winded. “Good. You’re gonna need it, Williams.”
Before he even finishes, he goes into a two-three combination, but I’m ready. I duck his left hand, my right one connecting to his chin.
My heart kicks up as the adrenaline surges through me, and I’m not the only one. There is a gleam in Quentin’s eyes as he wipes the back of his hand over his jaw, smearing blood across his chin.
“Keeping in shape, huh?”
I lift my shoulder in a half shrug. “A bit of lifting, mostly boxing. I like to stay sharp.”
Instead of being annoyed, Quentin’s grin only widens, and he lunges at me. We swing and block with equal precision, moving lightly on our feet. His fist connects with my side, leaving me breathless for a second, but I quickly bounce back, hitting him with a body shot of my own.
“Is that really the best you’ve got?” I taunt as he stumbles back.
“Fuck you, Williams.”
I shoot him my most charming grin. That’s when I see it. A flash of honey hair in the distance. My head snaps up just as Quentin lunges forward.
Pain explodes in my face before I even see it coming.
His fist connects with my cheekbone, making my head snap back. The pain causes white spots to dance across my vision.
Fucking hell, that hurts like a bitch.
Some people are groaning, others are cheering as I stumble, falling on my ass, my back hitting the ropes.
“You’re distracted.” Quentin crosses his arms over his chest and shoots me a disapproving look.
“No shit,” I mutter, lifting my hand to rub it over my jaw, knowing damn well this shit will leave a bruise.
“Matthew James Williams!”
My body goes still at the sound of my full name and then I see none other than the reason for my distraction slipping between the ropes and climbing into the ring without a care in the world.
Jessica crouches down next to me, brushing my hand back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I was trying to work out.”
She lets out a low grunt as she tilts my head to the side, examining my face. “Of course you’d choose a sport that requires you to get pummeled.”
“Hey, I’m usually the one doing the pummeling,” I protest, a soft grunt coming out of my mouth when she touches a particularly sensitive spot.
“Mhmm…”
Her tone is almost placating as her soft fingertips skim over my cheek, and I can feel the goosebumps rise on my skin.
“I am.”
“Not from where I’m standing,” Quentin interjects with a smirk, eyeing us with interest.
“Fuck off, Q.”
“Gladly. I’m taking the W, but if you want a rematch, let me know.” He winks at me.
Jessica glares at him as he leaves the ring before her attention shifts back to my face. “I don’t think anything’s broken.”
“Don’t worry, Trouble. My pretty face is still intact.”
Some of that fire flickers in her irises, and the corner of my mouth twitches in amusement, which makes sparks of pain ignite again.
