Yes, she can. Haley can learn who I am, who my family is, and hate me. I can let her down and, once again, be a failure. Haley has no idea how much I need this last shot at redemption and how much I need her.
She drops her hands and I lower my arms to my sides.
“But here’s the important part.” She waggles her eyebrows. “You’re never going to win a fight unless you take a chance and actually engage.”
“What about you?” I ask.
Haley’s eyes jump to mine. “What about me?”
“When are you going to engage?”
Her forehead wrinkles and her dark eyes harden. She’s sexy as hell pissed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
It must mean that I don’t mind angering her enough that she’ll cut off my balls. It means that when I give her roses, she tells me maybe we’ll talk. “You keep telling me what I need to do, then, instead of going for a blow, you show me shadow boxing.”
Haley lifts her chin, almost daring me to challenge her again. “Do you have a problem with how I’m training you?”
“No, but it doesn’t take a head shrink to figure out that you’re holding back.”
She leans into me just like the night we first met. “I am not holding back.”
“Yeah, you are. We’ve been together day in and day out for over a month, and holding back is what you do. With people at school, your family, in training, with denying what you feel when you’re with me.”
“Feel with you? Me and you—we are friends.”
“We crossed beyond friends the night we spent in your room and you know that. Fuck, Haley, there isn’t a moment that we haven’t been into each other and I’m not the only one in the room aware of it.”
Haley shakes her head and waves a hand in the air. “Keep your mind where it needs to be, West. In the gym.”
“Hey, you’re the one who kissed me in the cafeteria today.”
“Bwha.” A large puff of air leaves her mouth and blood leaves her face. “I was thanking you. For helping me. Not coming on to you.”
I ease closer to her. “You want me. Admit it, Haley. You. Want. Me. You wanted me the first night we met, you wanted me the night in your room and you want me right now, but you’ve buried it deep. It popped out today when you least expected it and now you’re mad because I’m calling you out.”
Haley goes blank, and, like the time we confronted Matt and Conner in the cafeteria, she goes into the frozen shock. I’m used to girls who tell me everything that crosses their minds...everything. Including the things that should be self-censored, but Haley keeps every thought locked away and maybe she doesn’t do it on purpose. Maybe that’s her way of keeping up her guard.
I glance down at the gloves on my hand. “I step when I punch.”
Haley’s dark eyes jump to mine and the hope, the gratitude swimming in them for changing the subject almost brings me to my knees. “No, you don’t.”
“And I throw more jabs than crosses.”
A smile starts to play on her lips. “That definitely never happens.”
“And I am the king of switching up between going on the defensive and offensive.”
Like I knew she would, Haley laughs loudly. The spark that has returned to her eyes is nearly impossible to resist.
“If I throw a jab...” I lift my left arm and mock throw the punch.
Haley giggles as she absently blocks. Instantaneously, I step and “toss” a cross at her and she takes a mirroring step back as she blocks it again.
“The boy can be taught,” she says through another laugh.
“Been known to happen with me and monkeys on occasion.” With each halfhearted throw, I step in, and in smooth, rhythmic movements, Haley continues to counter, keeping a safe distance between us. She stays close enough to block me, close enough to go on the offensive if she chooses, but far enough away I can’t touch and that’s what I want... I crave to touch Haley.
Without warning, I slide into her and back her into the cage. Haley’s breath leaves her body in a rush and those dark eyes focus on me. Her hands rest on my chest and her fingers flutter, as if not sure whether to push or to explore. With my gloves against the fence on either side of her head, I lean into her and draw my nose up her jawline to her ear. Her body is warm and firm and she smells so damn good.
“What do I do if I get pushed against the cage?” I whisper into her ear and close my eyes when a tremor runs through her body.
Her fingernails tease my chest as her hands drift to my sides. “You hit here.” She squeezes my right side and electricity blazes out of her touch and into my system. “And here.” Then squeezes the other.
I nip at her ear and Haley’s hands tighten against my skin. Images of her underneath me appear in my mind and I want the fantasy to become reality. “What do I do if he takes me to the floor?”
I watch her throat as she swallows. She has beautiful skin—soft, smooth. The gloves on my hands turn into a nuisance as the urge to touch her evolves into an obsession.
“Grappling,” she says a little breathlessly.
Now those are lessons I look forward to. “When will we start that?”
“Soon.”
I part my mouth and kiss her neck. Haley dips her head to the side, allowing me more access, and through these damn shorts, she has to feel how much I want her.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispers, yet her hands wander to my back and trace my spine. “I won’t date another fighter.”
“Then walk away.” I trail a line of kisses along her collarbone, up her throat, then pause, staring straight into her eyes, giving her the chance to end this now. “I won’t lie. I want this, Haley. I want you.”
Hot, shallow breaths leave her mouth and brush against my lips. The vein at her neck pulses as her fingers perform this light dance on the small of my back that drives me insane. I’m a bastard if I do this. She doesn’t know I’m a Young or that my father may have destroyed her life.
“West.” She says my name as a question, as an answer. Damn me, it was an invitation.
My name. That was my name on her lips. Fuck everything else. Haley knows the real me and for once in my life I’m going to know what it’s like to kiss a girl who means something.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” Haley whispers as she reaches up and pulls at the Velcro of my glove.
“Yes, it does.” I bring my arms to my sides and the instant the gloves fall to the floor, my hands latch on to that beautiful body. “Tell me, Haley. Please tell me it does because this means something to me.”
Her forehead wrinkles and her eyes are moist as if it’s physically painful for her to nod and breathe out the words. “It does... It means something.”
Need begs for the physical fast, but Haley isn’t one of the girls I duck into hallways with. She’s more, and a shiver runs through me. I lower my lips to hers and, with the first taste, I moan. Her lips are sweet, soft...perfect. She exhales, a contented sigh, and my body melts into hers. The metal fencing behind her crackles with our weight.
As if flawlessly synchronized, our mouths move in the same rhythm. Lips drawing in, hands learning curves and muscles, our breaths coming out at faster rates. And when Haley knots her hands in my hair, self-control ruptures.
My arms become steel bands around her waist and I lift her so she fits perfectly to me. Haley latches her arms around my neck and joins me as the kiss races past innocent and into heated—bordering on out of control.
Her neck beckons to me again and the most beautiful sound escapes from her when I give in to the temptation. The spinning in my head spirals toward delirium as Haley shifts her legs. One thigh moves and the other one follows to wrap around my hips. I relish her warm weight pressing into my body. Heat surges through my bloodstream and my fingers dig into her skin.
Then the entire gym starts to shake. Haley drops her legs and I shove her onto the floor, my heart racing and my body covering hers. Metal screeches against metal and I glance over my shoulder.
Haley pushes at me, her nonverbal cue to let her go, but intent on keeping her safe, I ignore her request. The overhead heating unit releases an earsplitting shriek as the fan fights for one more rotation. Another bang vibrates the metal frame that holds the punching bags, and the entire unit shudders, then completely stops.
From beneath me, Haley whispers a curse. “John’s going to be pissed.”
Chapter 39
Haley
We left John while he was in the middle of a particularly eloquent cursing rant. The moment I knocked on his camper door and told him the heater blew, he forgot my existence. Sneaking out seemed like the best course of action.
West and I haven’t said anything to each other since the kiss, which means this car ride is officially awkward. Resting my head against the back of the leather seat, I watch the night as we roll by. What the hell was I thinking?
When he backed me against the cage and nipped my ear... I close my eyes. I can still feel the heat of his lips on my neck and what drives me stick-a-knife-in-my-eye insane is as much as I hate myself for kissing West, my body is screaming for a repeat performance.
Stupid body. Stupid, stupid traitorous body.
West eases his car in front of my uncle’s and the pathetic part of me wants to dart into the house without acknowledging him. I rub my forehead, covering my eyes. Oh, crap, I’m embarrassed. How can I look at him again? We’re not even dating and I freaking all but molested him. And that brings up a ton of issues because I don’t want to date him... He’s a fighter.