Learning to Live

Chapter 17

The gym was decently crowded for a Friday evening. Hunter and I warmed up outside then got in. We were wrapping our hands on a bench when I noticed he kept glancing away. I followed his gaze. Aaron, aka devils spawn, was in attendance today, and my boyfriend kept looking at him.

"What is it?" I asked.

"What?" He flexed his hands once he was done, then took over the task of finishing the wrap on my right hand. I always had trouble with it since I was right handed.

"Why do you keep looking at Aaron."

"No reason."

Uh-huh. As if I'd believe him. But I had no time to follow up my interrogation, because Steve spotted us and bellowed. "You two! Get moving! You're not here on a date."

Ugh. My cheeks burned. Steve's teeth gleamed against his dark skin. He looked too pleased with himself. He just liked teasing me too much for my own comfort. Hunter finished wrapping my hand calmly. He didn't seem rattled. It was kind of funny. Sometimes, he had a quick temper in reaction to some things, but not to others. But I guess everyone had their triggers.

"Go on," he said. "I need to ask Fernando something."

I strapped on my gloves and made my way to a sandbag. I glanced over. Fernando had been stretching nearby. Hunter stood over him and asked something. Fernando grinned and replied.

After several more words, Hunter made his way over to Steve. Coach listened to what Hunter had to say. After a few seconds, he nodded and pointed to the second ring.

I paused and held the sandbag. Was he going to spar? Normally, Steve wouldn't let underage beginners spar until at least a few of months into their training. I guess Hunter must've made an impression.

Steve and Hunter stood by the second ring and spoke. It was currently occupied by two guys. Steve pointed to the boxers, no doubt giving Hunter pointers.

I returned to my sandbag and kept an eye on Hunter. Sweat beaded my forehead when he was finally ready to jump in. He glanced around, caught my eyes then ducked into the ring. I jogged over, along with almost half the gym goers.

I stood next to Fernando and glanced at all the interested people. "I guess Hunter is pretty famous."

Fernando nodded. "The guy is ripped, and he moves like he's been boxing for years. Most these guys want to see if he's as good as he looks."

"Huh."

Hunter's opponent was a guy a couple of years older. He was an inch or two shorter than Hunter, but had more muscle mass. Looking at his stocky, muscled build, he reminded me of a bulldog. He looked bored, as if he was simply wasting his time sparring with the new kid.

Hunter and the bulldog put on their headgear. Steve spoke to them both in low voices then retreated to the corner of the ring.

"Alright, go!" Steve said.

Hunter and the guy bumped their gloves and parted. Over the past few weeks, Hunter had taken in all Steve's advice like a sponge. Fernando was right; he moved like he'd been boxing for years.

He raised his guards and jumped on the balls of his feet. Fernando chuckled next to me. "Your guy doesn't even look nervous. I remember the first time I got into the ring for a spar like this, I almost shit myself."

I snickered. "I remember."

He wrapped his arm around my neck and choked me. "You're supposed to say no, you brat."

I hit Fernando's arm with my glove. He loosened his hold, and just as I looked up, Bulldog charged at Hunter. He attacked with quick succession punches, not giving Hunter the time to even think of attacking. Hunter kept his guard up, surprisingly patient, and dodged the punches like he weighed nothing.