Six Things Before Breakfast

6

Sanders watches Becks train.

She's in a sports bra and shorts today. There are bruises coloring her dark skin. There's sweat pouring down her face, and her lips are pale, but her eyes are wild. Focused.

"Six," her coach instructs, and Becks grunts, delivering six simultaneous punches, left and right.

"Ten," he says, and Becks yells. Punches ten times.

That's fucking hard. Sanders can't believe Becks can do this for three minutes, four or five times, with only thirty-second breaks in between. It's tiring. It looks so tiring. And she's so hot.

"If you and Becks fought, who would win?" Adan asks, sitting next to him.

"Becks."

"True."

"Look at that. Shit, I'm getting turned on."

Adan laughs, and his phone buzzes with a call. It's Rosen. "What?" Sanders asks, eyes focused on Becks. He must look stupid. Starry-eyed or some shit. "I'm busy."

"You're literally just watching Becks," Rosen says, snorting. "I'm coming to you. I need food and you're going to treat me."

Sanders hangs up. He has, like, two dollars.

When Rosen enters the gym, some heads turn to him. Sanders snorts. Adan pinches his arm. "Who is that? Is he straight?"

"I don't know. He looks at me like he isn't. But he probably is. Rosen, Adan, Adan, Rosen," he says, keeping his eyes on Becks. "Please entertain each other."

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Adan asks.

Rosen blinks. "Um, no."

"Do you want a girlfriend?"

Sanders snorts again. Rosen looks flustered.

The bell rings. Becks groans loudly, and her coach stretches her arms behind her back. Sanders sits up, opens a water bottle, and holds a towel in his hands.

Rosen scoffs. "What a loser."

"Answer me," Adan says.

Becks jogs over. Sanders pushes the water bottle to her lips, and she hangs her head back, gulping it down. She's still catching her breath. She might be incapable of speech.

"Sure," Rosen says, blushing.

"Losers," Sanders says.

But then Becks breathes out, "That was bad. Fuck, I was so bad. What the fuck's wrong with me? My stance is off."

"You're doing great," Sanders tells her, wiping her face with his towel. "And you're amazing, the fuck are you talking about?"

"You're just being nice," Becks mutters, panting.

"No, look, my dick is getting hard. I can't fake that."

Becks laughs breathlessly. Sanders grins. He loves that. He loves making her laugh. Maxon can't make her laugh. "That's because of the sports bra," Becks says, smiling, raising an eyebrow.

"That, too. But you could be wearing your basketball shorts and a hoodie with fucking holes and I'd still find you beautiful."

Rosen chokes on his saliva. Adan laughs.

Becks rolls her eyes, but she's still smiling. "I hate you."

"Go." Sanders pushes her back to the ring just as the bell signals the end of the break.

"Ah," Rosen says, clicking his tongue. "You poor thing."

"Don't bring my financial status into this, I'm sensitive about that," Sanders tells him, narrowing his eyes. "Hey, actually. Now that you're here. Be honest with me."