Ghost drives us across town and parks in front of some bar I've never been to before, granted I haven't been to many. The sign above the door labels it The Scrap, and I notice the closed sign on the door is turned on.
This doesn't deter Ghost in the slightest. He walks us up to the entrance, selects a key from his key chain and unlocks the door with it. I peer at him with a confused frown as he props the door open and gestures for me to enter.
I linger for a moment to ask, "Do you own this place?"
He shakes his head, "No, but my friend does."
That answer satisfies my curiosity enough. I walk through the open door and he follows behind before allowing it to close after us.
We're enveloped in darkness and a slow panic begins to creep up my throat, but seconds later Ghost flips a switch and rows of lights are turned on, illuminating the entire room.
It appears to be just like any other bar, with a long counter in front of shelves of alcohol and tables to sit at, but past that is where it becomes more unique. A boxing ring sits raised up on a stage in the center of a large open area, with multiple rows of chairs encircling it on every side.
I turn to Ghost, speechless, and he smiles back at me and chuckles lightly, "You like it?"
I nod my head and look back at the ring. I've never seen a bar integrate something like this. They're always the same; drinks, tables and dance floors. But this place, it's something completely new.
"This is incredible." I utter, "So you have fights here? Like real fights?"
Ghost nods his head, a proud look on his face as he steps closer, "Yeah, and I actually fight back at these ones."
"Your friend owns this place?" I ask with disbelief.
"Yeah, well, he's always wanted to own a bar." Ghost explains, glancing my way with a smirk, "Adding the ring was my idea."
"That's amazing." I remark, stepping away to take a closer look at everything.
I run my hand along the mahogany bar, where black leather stools are lined down the length of it. Everything is dark and wooden, from the decor to the furniture, giving an old-fashioned, manly vibe to the place.
I can feel Ghost's eyes on me as I step around the bar to get a better look. There are rows of framed photographs hanging on the wall, all black and white, of various boxing matches. There are photos of fighters getting punched in the face, or raising their fists in victory after a win. The crowds are all standing and cheering excitedly in each one.
I notice one in particular, depicting a man with his back to the camera as his fist is drilled forward, connecting directly into his rivals face, which showers a spray of blood over the mat. It's brutal. My eyes travel over the tight muscles of his back and the dark hair that is matted down with sweat and I know exactly who it is instantly.
"That was a knockout." Ghost speaks from close behind me.
I spin around to see him leaning towards me on the other side of the bar, his forearms laying flat against the surface as he watches me curiously.
With a smile I step over to him, keeping the bar between us as I lean against the side opposite of him. "How long have you been boxing?" I ask, reaching out and playing with the toothpick holder beside me, just to keep my hands busy.
Ghost shrugs one shoulder, "Most my life." He replies, his gaze locked on me intently, "I was kind of an angry kid growing up and it helped me focus that energy into something more productive. That's what my mom would say, anyway."
I smile at the fact that he mentions his mom, finding it endearing.
"Is it difficult?"
He shakes his head with a coy grin, "Nothing's difficult for me."
I roll my eyes, "Except being humble, apparently."
He laughs lightly and I watch his face. He looks so relaxed and at home in this place. I realize I don't have a place like this in my life. I don't have anywhere I feel I belong one hundred percent. Must be nice.
I glance back at the photos on the wall before hesitantly asking, "Have you ever thought about teaching lessons on how to fight?"
He tilts his head as he regards me for a moment, remarking, "Not really. Why?"
I shrug, acting nonchalant as I tell him, "I think it's something I'd like to learn. Maybe not boxing, per say, but how to fight and defend myself."
His brow perches at this and he looks me up and down skeptically, "Why do you want to learn how to defend yourself, Rose?"
My lips tighten into a straight line as one answer comes to mind; Brody.
Out loud I say, "When you're a girl it's just necessary to know how to defend yourself." My hands continue to fiddle with the toothpick holder, gripping it tighter without realizing it. "You saw that guy at the club last night. If I knew how to defend myself I wouldn't have needed you to parade over and save me."
He smiles slowly and notes, "Thought you didn't need to be saved?"
I shrug, "Well you just seemed so determined I didn't want to burst your bubble."
He breathes out a small laugh and replies, "Okay, I'll teach you some moves."
I smile gratefully, "Thank you."
He nods his head in the direction of the ring and urges, "Come on then."
I blink in confusion, stuttering, "Wait, right now?"
"Yeah, why not?"
No time like the present, I suppose.
I step around the bar and follow Ghost over to the ring. He hoists himself up onto the lifted stage with ease and slips right through the ropes. I have a bit more of a struggle, holding onto the ropes and raising my leg up just to get positioned to pull myself up the side. I end up basically rolling up onto it and beneath the ropes in a manner that is anything but elegant.
I stand and huff deeply, blowing the wayward strands of hair out of my face while Ghost watches me with an amused smirk. It's only after I go through all this trouble that he feels the need to mention, "There are some stairs on the other side over there."
He gestures vaguely to the left and my eyes follow to the little walkout on the stage that leads to a set of steps.
My nostrils flare with annoyance and I grumble, "Could've told me sooner."
He grins and shrugs one shoulder, "I wanted to see how far you got first."
"Bastard." I mumble under my breath, but he hears it and barks out a quick laugh.
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
My lips twist with disdain. My mom is the last person I want to think about right now. And although I know he's just teasing, I can't help but contemplate his words with a heavy heart. I don't remember the last time I kissed my mom. Or hugged her. Or vice versa.
I shake it off quickly, fixing Ghost with a hard stare as I move on, "Shall we begin?"
His corner of his lip quirks, "We shall." He remarks, stepping forward as he rubs his hands together in front of him. He looks me up and down, seeming to assess me closely. I squirm under his gaze until he finally remarks, "Okay, so right off the bat, you're not very strong."
"Excuse me?" I retort, my tone offended. I mean, it isn't news to me, but it's still rude to say.
"Fortunately, strength isn't the only thing you need to defend yourself." He continues, "If you know the right techniques and pressure points, even the weakest of girls can get away."
I roll my eyes, "I'm not the weakest."
"Didn't say you were." He quips back with a smirk. He steps closer, "Obviously I'm not trained in self-defense, but I've been in plenty of fights and they haven't all been in controlled environments like the boxing ring, so I do know a few tricks on how to get out of a bad situation."
For the next twenty minutes or so he shows me different moves and techniques. Some of them aren't that simple, and it's a lot of things to remember. Hopefully in an actual high-stress situation my mind won't go blank with fear.
"Okay, last move." Ghost tells me as we both pant and sweat from all the exertion.
He steps right up against me and wraps his arms around me tightly, locking my arms at my sides. My cheeks blush being pressed so closely and I try not to think about how taut and strong his chest feels.
He angles his face down and mine angles up, bringing them mere inches apart from each other. I can feel his heart beating against me, just as quickly as mine as we stand still and stare at each other for a moment.
His grip around me slackens, so it's no longer a menacing hold and more like a tender embrace. I swallow hard and watch his eyes drop down to my lips. I know what he's thinking. It's the same thing I'm thinking. The same thing that is sending bolts of electricity down my spine.
He wants to kiss me.
I can't say I don't want him to, but the moment I acknowledge the urge, I immediately push it away. Brody's face pops up in my mind and a rush of guilt seizes my chest. I step back from Ghost, breaking all contact as his face flashes with confusion before resuming his usual unbothered expression.
"I— uhm, that's enough for today. I think we should go." I suggest in a flustered tone.
His lips purse momentarily, and he almost looks guilty before he nods in agreement, "Yeah, you're right. Let's go."
We step down from the ring, I opt for the stairs this time, and after Ghost locks the door behind us we climb back into his car and peel away from the curb.
There's a heavy silence in the car as we drive. I think we're both reflecting on what almost just happened. I am, at least. I can't let that happen again. I'm not a cheater. I'm faithful to my relationship. Ghost is trying to get into my head and I won't let him.
I expect the ride to be quiet the entire time, but he has other plans.
"Are you hungry?"
I glance sideways at him, a hesitant frown on my face before I reply, "Kind of."
He glances at me with a half smile, "McDonald's?"
I nod my head, "Sure."
Five minutes later we're at the drive thru window. Ghost orders three burgers and a large drink before turning to me and asking what I want. I tell him chicken nuggets with honey mustard and a smoothie. He relays the order before pulling forward.
As we wait for the cars ahead of us Ghost drums the steering wheel with his fingers and remarks, "Honey mustard is disgusting."
I huff in my seat, staring out the window as I retort, "Well you're not the one eating it."
"But I'll be smelling it." He points out.
"Get over it."
He scoffs, letting out a humorless chuckle as he mutters, "So sassy."
At the window Ghost pays for both meals. I'm quick to protest, "No, I can pay for my own."
He waves me off as the worker hands him his card back and we pull ahead, "It's like five bucks, Rose, don't worry about it."
A few moments later we have our food and Ghost parks the car as we quickly eat. The air is thick and silent between us. I want to confront him about what almost happened earlier, but I don't want to make it more awkward.
What if it was all in my head? What if he had no intention of even kissing me? What if that was just wishful thinking? Why would I wish for that in the first place?
"So," Ghost begins, but I'm so stuck in my thoughts that when he suddenly speaks, I flinch hard in my seat, nearly spilling his detested honey mustard all over the place. He tosses me a concerned frown and grumbles, "Careful with that."
"Sorry." I mutter, setting it aside and wiping my clammy hands on my thighs.
"So," He begins again, "I was thinking, if you want to, you could come to my next fight."
My brow perks at him and I question disbelievingly, "Really?"
He nods, "Well I have to prove to you that I'm actually good, don't I?"
A small smile tilts my mouth up as I agree, "Yeah, I won't believe it until I see it."
The awkward air between us is quickly slipping away with this conversation. I start to feel more relaxed once again, knowing that what happened earlier is forgotten. And I'm determined it will never happen again.
Ghost seems relieved as well as he tosses a greasy wrapper into the paper bag our food came in and remarks, "Saturday is my next fight. You can bring a friend or something if you want, just to feel more comfortable."
A friend. My mind is quick to remind me that I don't have any friends. I barely have any conversations with Annie that don't revolve around school or house work. And Brody is the last person I would want to bring to Ghost's fight.
"I—uhm, that's alright. I'll just go by myself." I tell him softly, frowning down at my lap.
"You sure? I won't be able to be with you while I'm on stage fighting and I wouldn't want you to be all alone. The crowds can get pretty rough there." Ghost tells me, slight concern lacing his tone.
I shake my head, "It's okay." My lips purse as I hesitate to tell him because it sounds so pathetic, but softly I mutter, "I just... I don't really have anyone to bring. I don't have any friends, besides Brody of course."
There's a brief pause and I figure Ghost must be thinking about how lame I am, and I don't blame him. But he surprises me when he lets out a short scoff and retorts, "Well that's a lie. What about me?"
I frown and glance up at him, confused. He watches me expectantly with a small smile and I slowly shake my head, "We're not friends, Ghost. We've barely even spoken. This is our first time hanging out and it only happened because I called you up like some crazy person and accused you of stealing."
"Sounds like the start of friendship to me." He states with a nonchalant shrug.
My heart lifts slightly hearing him say that, but I'm still hesitant as I point out, "How can we be friends when I don't even know your real name?"
He cocks a brow at me, "Is that part of the criteria?"
I scoff, "Yeah, kind of."
He glances to the side, seeming to debate something in his head as a small frown wrinkles his forehead. I can't help but wonder why telling me his name is such a big deal to him. It's just a name, but he acts as though it's top-secret, classified information.
After what feels like an eternity he finally looks back at me and says, "I'll tell you my name, if you promise me one thing."
I nod earnestly and question, "What?"
His lips tilt into the smallest smile as he requests, "You have to continue to call me Ghost."
"Okay. I promise." I agree without hesitation.
He seems satisfied by this as he sighs deeply before finally revealing, "My name is Allister."
I watch his face, placing the name to it and seeing if it fits. I think it does. A warm smile graces my face as I realize that I really want to be friends with him, and I'm really glad that he wants to be friends with me. I never expected someone like him to even bother with someone like me.
He waits expectantly for me to say something, so slowly I reach my hand out between us and state in a professional tone, "It's nice to meet you, Allister."
He rolls his eyes before appeasing me, taking my hand in his and shaking it firmly, "It's Ghost. And nice to meet you, too, Emerson."
My heart flips hearing him say my first name for the first time ever. I like it, but I also like the fact that he calls me Rose. It's like my own special nickname.
"Friends?" I question, our hands still firmly clasped, neither of us attempting to pull away.
He smirks, glancing down as he deliberates something in his head. His thumb slowly rubs against my skin, setting it on fire with his touch as he finally utters, "Friends."
With that he slowly pulls away and soon we're driving off. I give him my address to drop me off at the dorms and it isn't long before he's parking in front of the building and turning to face me.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and look at him as well as I say, "Thank you, for everything. Especially earlier. You really didn't have to come help me calm down."
He shrugs, "I wanted to."
I smile, "I'm glad you did."
I reach into the backseat to grab my backpack as he tells me, "I'll text you later with more details about the fight."
Nodding my head I remark, "Sounds good. Guess I'll see you then."
"See you then."
I hesitate for a moment before quickly leaning over to him and wrapping my arms around him in a short hug. I pull back just as quickly, he doesn't even have time to reciprocate, and I open the door and slide out of the car. I wave shortly at him through the window and hurriedly scurry up the path and the stairs that lead to my door.
After unlocking and opening the door I turn back to glance at the street and see his car is still there. He waits until I'm safely inside before finally driving away.
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AN;
Comment and vote, let me know what you think. How do you feel about the story progression? How about Ghost and Em's new friendship?
-Xo Sarah