Tyler's Undoing (Gloves Off #1)(12)

Bree snickered and shook her head. “Um . . . you know he’s a lot bigger than you, right?”

“I don’t care,” I exclaimed. “I’m a lot stronger than I look. Besides, there’s one thing he doesn’t have that I do.”

“And what’s that?”

“My refreshingly charming wit. He won’t even know what hit him.”

“I’d like to see that,” she teased.

I wouldn’t, because then that’d mean I was actually going to be around him. I just had to hope and pray he didn’t want to have anything to do with me after our time at the gym today.





AFTER COLE AND I sparred, he left to get ready for his date with Bree while I continued my training. Much to my surprise, my father had basically been leaving me in charge for the past couple of months. The only time he was really in the gym was during my training sessions, which happened to be starting right now.

“All right, son, let’s see what you got,” my father called out. “Make sure to concentrate.”

Anticipating another fighter’s moves was one of the most important things you needed to learn in the ring. If you could anticipate their moves, you could hit them in their weakest spots. I was good at everything but that, and it pissed my father off more than anything. He was an expert at it. Every time I failed his approval, I had to hear how unfocused I was and how I would never win the title.

Padded up with his boxing gloves, my father circled the ring and I countered him, trying my best to concentrate on his movements. He was good at psyching people out, including me. I would give anything to move like him, but I had strengths he didn’t possess. Sometimes, I wondered if he even realized that.

Once his posture shifted I knew his strike was coming to my left. When I dodged, he smiled and nodded his head. “Good, son,” he praised.

He struck again and again, each time I deflected his attacks. “See, I’m not so bad?” I remarked excitedly. It was the first time I’d thwarted every single attack.

The second I let my excitement get the better of me, my father swung and snapped my head to the right side with a hard punch. Out of every single fighter I’d fought against, my father had the hardest hit. Head ringing, I rolled my neck and cracked it, massaging my jaw.

“Maybe I spoke too soon,” I grumbled.

Sighing, my father slipped off his gloves. “That’s your problem, son. You get too cocky and it gets to your head. Stop letting it control you.”

“It was only one hit,” I challenged. “I’ve taken plenty of hits and still came out on top.”

“Yeah, but it only takes one to make all the difference. You fight Kyle in three weeks for the title. He’s gotten ruthless with his fighting. I just want you to be ready.”

“I will be,” I promised.

“I sure hope so, son. The last thing the league needs is Kyle taking the title again. Everyone’s counting on you.”

Yes, I know. I wasn’t going to let anyone down.





Once I closed up the gym, I started on my way home and called Bree. She was on a date with Cole, but he knew I was going to call.

“Why hello, Tyler,” she answered the phone.

“Hey, Bree. Are you still with Cole?”

“Yes, I’m here cocksucker,” Cole called out. “You’re on the speakerphone.”

“Okay, I’ll make this quick so you two can get back to . . . well, whatever it is you were doing. Anyway, I wanted to see if there was anything you could tell me about Kacey. Something that’ll help me out.”

“Honestly, I don’t know if anything will,” Bree confessed. “She was pretty adamant on keeping her distance. She did, however, say she would maybe hang out with all of us one day. Knowing her, she’d still try to avoid it if I asked her to go.”

“That’s a start though. Make sure not to tell her about Friday.”

“I won’t.”

“What about hobbies? What does she like to do?”

“She likes to play golf. Her father taught her when she was a little girl. She talks about it all the time, but I don’t play. I usually just go with her and drive her around in the golf cart. Do you play?” she asked.

“Of course,” I lied. “Maybe I’ll see if she’ll do that with me.”

“That would be amazing,” Bree squealed. “She’ll love to play with someone.”

I had never even set foot on a golf course before, other than the local putt-putt when I was a kid. I mean, how hard could golf be?

“What else does she like to do?” I inquired.

“Um . . . she likes to go running every morning. If I could get up early enough, I’d go with her, but she always goes at like six in the morning. That’s too much for me.”

Now that was something I honestly did as well. I just usually went running around my neighborhood. “Where does she run?”

“She goes to the local high school by her house, to run on their track. If you show up there tomorrow, you better not mention I had anything to do with it,” she warned.

“I won’t.” I chuckled. “Just tell me which school she goes to and I’ll pretend this phone call never happened.”

She sang like a canary and we hung up. Kacey was going to be pissed.