Vinny
“How’s the little bambino?” I ask, hitting the speedball.
“He’s perfect, but full of energy, just like his mother.” Nico smiles. “Elle’s a good sport, my niece is upstairs ‘helping’ her babysit.”
“The seven-year-old that wears the pink tutu and cowboy boots?”
“The one and only. I ducked out the door when Elle was changing him and I heard her ask what was inside his pesticles.” Nico laughs.
Finishing up with the speedball, we move to the ring. “We’ll spar for a while, then I have Kojo coming in to work you out on the mat.”
“That guy freaks me out. I’m not sure how he even hears out of those cauliflower things he’s got growing on the side of his head.” I throw a warm up kick as Nico brings up the deflecting pads.
“Yeah, well cauliflower or not, he’s got a gold medal in wrestling, and you don’t. You want a real shot at Lamaro, you gotta focus, pick up as much as he can teach you in the next two weeks.”
Swinging my leg high in the air, I follow the pads, striking each time with a kick almost dead on center of where I aim. Kickboxing is my strongest discipline.
“What’s going on with Delilah?” My kick knocks Nico back three steps. Just the mention of my mother’s name brings back years of pent up anger. Maybe I should drag her ass to the championship, sit her cage side with a pipe in her hands to keep me pissed while I take it out on Lamaro.
“Trouble, what else is new,” I grumble a response, switching to alternating between leg strikes and punches.
“What did she do now?” Raising the pad higher, Nico motions for me to hit him with a series of jabs. We’ve been together so long, we can basically train like mutes, words unnecessary for most of our communication. Yet he always talks anyway, sticks his nose into my business. Been that way since I was a kid.
“Making bad decisions. Hanging out with losers that pull her down into their crap.” I hit Nico with a series of jabs and a strong right, the momentum forcing him back into the ropes.
“Don’t let her take you down with her this time. This is your chance Vinny. Chances like this don’t come around too often. You’re distracted, Lamaro’s gonna pick up on it, deliver you a beating. You’re focused, things gonna go a whole different way than the bookies are expecting.” Nico takes the pads off and stills, wanting all of my attention. “You can take this guy, Vinny. Your right hook and brushing up on your technique with Kojo. You’re ready. Just stay fucking focused.”
Hours later, I’m standing in a puddle of my own sweat, maybe even a few of my own tears, after the torture Kojo ran me through for three straight hours. I down a liter of water and peel my still soaked shirt from the floor.
On my way up from the floor, I catch a glimpse of long shapely legs sticking out from beneath a chocolate colored skirt that makes my mouth salivate even though I’m pretty sure I’m dehydrated from my water loss. Liv. I’m surprised to see her, but it’s a good surprise. I watch as Sal points her in my direction and she looks up smiling, her eyes taking in every rigid muscle of my chest, and she licks her lips unconsciously as she makes her way to me. I don’t move, instead waiting for her to come to me.
“Hey.” I wrap the towel around my neck.
“Ready for our road trip?” She lifts a bag I hadn’t even noticed she was carrying, distracted by the sight of those legs, my mind visualizing them wrapping around my back.
Titling my head, for a half second I think perhaps I’ve forgotten a conversation we had, but then she smiles. It’s mischievous and sweet, and makes me want to grab her and never let go. I squint, not letting her see I made up my mind she was coming the minute she smiled, pretending I’m deliberating her coming along for the ride. She stands her ground, hitching her shoulders back and readying for an argument. Her boldness turns me on. A lot.
Closing the two steps to stand in her personal space, I lean in, towering over her, my face still unreadable. Never wavering, she looks up at me through her long, thick eyelashes, the hazel color of her eyes turning deep green with conviction. Her eyes never straying from mine, I lean my sweaty forehead against hers and wrap my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close to me. “Ten minutes, let me shower.” Kissing her chastely on the lips, she smiles up at me in silent victory.