Sweat drips down my forehead and over my brows as I tear off my gloves and grab a bottle of water.
As I squirt it into my mouth, Rex asks, “Really? Twelve hours?”
Too breathless to speak, I nod.
“Sounds like a dream. Twelve hours with a sexy woman in an elevator.” He makes a longing expression as if I was stuck inside a fantasy instead of a freezing cold compartment with nowhere to relieve myself and not a drop of water to drink.
“She was gorgeous—like you wouldn’t believe,” I reply breathlessly, indulging him in the story.
“What did she look like?” he asks, needing the details. “Blond?”
I shake my head. “No, dark hair, bronze skin, and the cutest fucking smile I’ve ever seen.”
“Did you get her number?”
I tilt my head at him. “Of course I did. Got the guy’s too.”
“Oh yeah, truly an Archer fantasy come true. Tell me again why you didn’t have an orgy and record it for me?” His tone is full of humor, but I’m not entirely convinced Rex is joking. If he had been in my position, he definitely would have laid the moves on Freya. He might even have let Julian join in, though unlike me, he is strictly interested in the ladies.
And it’s not like the thought didn’t cross my mind. It’s not every day you get stuck in an enclosed space with two of the most gorgeous people you’ve ever laid eyes on. But it wasn’t like that. We spent the entire time talking, which might be why I can’t stop thinking about either of them.
If it had been a scene straight out of a porno, I’d still be thinking about it but in a very different way. As it is, the last three days have been nothing but hearing Freya’s California accent in my head and seeing Julian’s cold eyes staring at me from across the compartment.
The three of us formed a bond that night, and it’s not as easy to shake as sex would have been. Now I just stare at that empty group chat, trying to figure out a way to strike up a conversation, because in some strange way, I miss them.
Without answering Rex’s perverted question, I pick up my gloves and get back to my training. After about twenty more minutes, he drops the bags again.
“You have a fight tomorrow. You need to take it easy,” he says, and I reluctantly oblige.
“Any word on…what’s his name? Kramer?”
Rex chuckles. “Koszmar. And no, I haven’t found him yet, and to be honest with you, Chopper, I don’t think I want to. This guy is dangerous. He’s not a fighter—he’s a murderer.”
I scoff at his warning. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic, Archer. Do you know why he calls himself Koszmar? Because it’s Polish for nightmare.”
I laugh with a shake of my head. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Of course I do know that. I only pretend I can’t remember his name to mess with Rex, but the truth is I know everything there is to know about this guy, which is to say not much. There are no photos or videos online. Only whispers of a man drifting through the circuit. The enigma only feeds my obsession.
I will find him. And I will beat him.
“Laugh all you want, my friend, but he is a real nightmare. From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t stop until his opponent is dead.”
“All the more reason for me to beat him.” Grabbing my shirt from the bench, I toss it over my head and wipe the sweat from my brow with a towel. “Just find him. Let me be the judge of how dangerous he is.”
“You know,” he replies, “a normal person would be afraid of this guy.”
“Not me.” I shoot him a cheesy grin.
Rex’s face tightens with unease as he follows me out of the gym in the basement of my building. When we jog up the stairs toward the lobby, he doesn’t say a word. He buttons his coat at the top of the stairs and gives me an expression like he’d like to say something.
Instead, I grab his shoulder to ease his nerves. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
His dark, nearly black eyes narrow. “Yeah, don’t be late. By the docks at midnight.”
“I’ll be there,” I say, walking away from him toward the elevators. As I press the button, I hear him gasp.
