Legend (Real, #6)(27)

He stands there, a full head taller, twice my weight—at least. And packed with muscle. My heart beats a dozen times. The bag is hit a dozen times. And he still won’t look away. There’s something dangerous in his gaze. Making my heart speed up and my body feel out of control. I want to know more about him—all there is to know. But he’s more impenetrable than the bag his fists are knocking. He’s like a steel wall, with steel eyes. Eyes that pierce. Like knives.

I wonder how he moves in bed.

All hard but fluid.

If he loses control.

I wonder what it takes to make him smile. Not smirk, not a brief smile, a real smile.

After putting in my time, I head for Racer and take him to a nearby park. I brought snacks for us—for Maverick and me—thinking I’d invite him with us, but it turns out I’m a coward and I couldn’t. And now I tuck them back into my backpack. I’m so strangely lust-lovesick that I’m exhausted and sleepless, to boot.

? ? ?

Maverick

I ALWAYS KNOW when I hit right depending on the sound I get. I start getting the long, hard, deep sounds, one after the other, and I know I’m hitting right. I haven’t been on the mark today because I caught her watching me and got hard.

Something about feeling those light blue eyes, pure as a clean sky, makes me react. I have trouble tearing my eyes off her. I like to stare at her face. I like to trace the oval shape with my eyes, take in her plump, puckered-looking pink lips, and the sleek little nose of hers with a total of three freckles at the bridge. I even like to wonder how many more freckles she’ll get if she keeps taking Racer to the park.

Forcing myself to focus, I feel the sweat on my brow as I continue slamming. The heavy bag swings side to side. I drive my fists forward. I keep my earbuds in to block the distractions but she’s still in my head.

I clench my teeth and test my hits, frown hard when the bag doesn’t make the noise I want.

I shift my arm, pull in from my abs, and there. WHAM.

I shift position, facing the room. The treadmill she just emptied. But I remember her walking there. Her eyes catching mine. My dick going wild.

I’m twice as heavy and a full head taller, packed with muscle. She’s all girl and woman and it took all my willpower to focus on training and look away. I feel dangerous when I look at her. My heart pumps faster and I want to know more about her, all there is to know. I’m as impenetrable as the bag I’m hitting, but she’s as elusive as the air. I could be a steel wall with steel eyes, but the truth is, what I feel, I feel it hard too.

And I want to kiss Reese like I want to win tonight.

I stop punching, and I tell Oz I’m taking an hour.

I head to the front desk. “There a park nearby?”

“Sure. Two, three blocks this way.” The attendant points with her finger, and I say thanks and pull up my hoodie, heading to the park.

I spot the stroller by a field, where Reese sits with a book and Racer sucks on a crimson lollipop.

“Mavewick!”

We fist-bump. “Hey, buddy.”

Reese drops her book and looks at me, blue eyes wide in surprise. Then her cheeks flush pink, and I shove my hands restlessly into my hoodie pockets. Hell, I want to lean over, take her face in my hands, and kiss her mouth and taste her until she can’t remember her name, much less the guy back home.

She scoots over and pats the spot next to her, and I drop down and look at her. Reese is a virgin. I need to take care with this girl. Be patient with this girl. Patience is not my strong suit, but patience wins this fight, and I’m not losing, just like I’m not losing in the Underground.

“Hey.” I lean over and brush my lips to her cheek, then smile down at her when she glances worriedly to see if Racer saw. He giggles, watching us. Then I take her hand in mine and just sit there for a few minutes; ten minutes later I’m lying down and pulling her into my arms so she can read her book with her head on my chest. She sets the book aside and closes her eyes, inhaling as if I relax her. “Watch Racer for me? I haven’t slept well at all.”

“Yeah,” I murmur into her hair, and I reach up and cup the back of her head with my hand, keeping her against me ’cause she feels too good here. I rub my thumb over the back of her head and smell her hair. And I stay the hour with them like I belong.

Me—a guy whose own father didn’t want him—entrusted with this little boy.

Racer showing me all the toys he’s brought with him.

And Reese in my arms, where I want her.





SEVENTEEN


TATE


Maverick

I rub my father’s old gloves before the fight so much, I’ve worn them down as much as the years fighting did.

Everyone knows who I am now. Backstage, I’m in a room of my own. All the other fighters are scared shitless of me. If I see a fighter out in the hall, I can stare him down in a second. And I do. I’ve got the staring thing down pat.

I like that they’re afraid.

They should be.

I’m young but I’m fast, I’m strong, and I’ve got more to prove than these *s ever will.

“She might be coming to your fight. Look good. Chicks don’t like losers,” Oz tells me as we wait to get called.

“That’s all you’ve got for me?” I lift my brows, incredulous.

“Yep. It’s the most effective I’ve got.”