Fighting Shadows (On the Ropes #2)(62)

“Hi!” I chirped, swatting his hand away.

She released me and slapped Flint on the chest. “You’re late.”

He tipped his head to me. “Her fault. And before you ask . . . don’t.” He tossed her a wink.

“Ewww,” she cried then turned to look at me. “No offense.”

I laughed. “None taken.”

“Well, you better get back there. Till’s been stomping around for some reason. I’d way rather you handle that than me.”

“Fantastic,” he deadpanned. “Hang on. I need to introduce Ash to someone first.”

Eliza looked at me. “I saved you a seat.” She pointed to the front row with reserved signs taped to the backs of the chairs. “Just come find me when you’re done.”

My body relaxed as I watched her walk away.

Flint leaned down and whispered into my ear, “She likes you.”

“Oh goodie,” I snarked, causing him to chuckle.

Lifting a crutch, he pointed to a door marked Gym Staff Only. “Come on.”

I followed him as he skillfully navigated through the crowd. I wasn’t sure how he did it. I was only using two legs and bumped into more people than he did.

He led me into a large, open office that branched off into three other offices. Two of them could be seen through the glass windows that overlooked the gym, and once I’d seen the names listed on the door, I understood why.

The one on the left sported the On The Ropes logo above the words Former Heavyweight Champion of the World, Slate “The Silent Storm” Andrews.

The door on the right had the words The Silencer cut out of a sound wave with the title Former Heavyweight Champion of the World, Till Page.

But it was the door at the back that really caught my attention: Head of On The Ropes Sports Management, Flint Page.

I looked up at him, and his prideful smile matched mine.

“That’s really f*cking cool.”

“Nah, it’s no big deal.” His smile spread.

I pressed up onto my toes to kiss his cheek. “Liar.”

He laughed and pulled a key from his pocket. After unlocking the door, he flipped the light on, not surprisingly revealing a clean and clutter-free desk with three shelves packed with books behind it. A laptop sat on one side, and with the exception of a picture frame and a piece of brick, the rest of the desk was empty.

“Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” He kissed the top of my head then left.

I chose to sit in his chair behind the desk. Tracing my fingers over the wooden desk, I wondered if he had ever sat in that same spot and thought about me. Just the idea warmed me.

I discovered that the picture frame held a photo of Flint in the boxing ring. He was mid punch, and judging from his opponent’s face at the point of impact, it was a knockout. I smiled to myself as I saw him standing without the aid of his crutches for the very first time. Sure, Flint could take a step or two on his own, but that picture was different. He was strong and fierce. And it left me wondering if that version of Flint would have been so hell-bent on being with a girl like me.

Thankfully, before I got lost in my imagination, Flint interrupted me.

“It’s from the building.”

“Huh?” I looked up to find him leaning against the doorjamb.

“The brick. It’s from the building you vandalized the first night we got together.”

I picked it up and spun it around. It was no bigger than an apple, but I could still clearly make out a yellow stripe of paint on one side.

I heard his four-beat gait approach, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the brick.

“I have no idea if that’s a mark you made or someone else, but the day after they tore it down, I had Quarry hop the fence and steal it for me.”

“I . . . I was still here when they tore it down,” I stuttered, glancing up just as he sat down on the corner of his desk.

He took the brick from my hand and set it down. Then he snagged my arm and tugged me against his side. I went willingly, resting my head on his shoulder as he folded his arms around my waist.

“Yeah, but even then, I was trying to hold on to you.”

I melted into his arms.

All. The. Feels.

“Stop talking,” I mumbled against his neck.

His hands teased under the back of my shirt. “What? That wasn’t even dirty.”

Just as I was about to ask for something dirty, a loud and strangely familiar voice boomed into the room.

“I swear to God I hope that boy gave you hell for that stunt you pulled.”

My head popped up, and a half laugh, half gasp escaped my throat. “Max!” I cried, scrambling from Flint’s embrace.

In a pair of jeans that had probably never seen the dirt and a black On The Ropes collared shirt, Max glared at me from the doorway. He was pissed . . . and I couldn’t have cared less. I rushed over and threw my arms around his neck.

“Oh my God! What are you doing here?” I asked when he released me.

“Me? I work here. What the hell are you doing?”

I spun around to Flint, who was watching us with an amused grin. “He works here?”

He shrugged and crossed his thick arms over his chest.

I looked back at Max. “You have a job?”

“Yep. Your boyfriend there got me the gig not long after you left. Donna too.”