Page 41 of Forgotten Comeback

I throw a jab.

Air.

A cross.

Air.

An uppercut.

Air.

The man moves like a jungle cat, lithe and light on his feet. It would be impressive if I didn’t want to punch him so damn bad.

Doubling over with my gloves on my knees to catch my breath, Gavin cautiously approaches. “Uh, Taylor?—”

Moving fast, I sucker punch him in the ribs.

“Ooof.” He doubles over.

“Now, would you please help me adjust my bra?” My nipple’s hanging out, but it was so worth it.

Gavin

“That was cheating.” I look around the gym to see if anyone else witnessed the dirtiest and yet sexiest move in all of boxinghistory. Adjusting her sports bra, I cover her rosy nipple, again, telling my dick to sit down and shut up.

Taylor’s smile vanishes. “No. You and Mia last night, that was cheating. This was me being resourceful.”

“Cheating implies a committed relationship, something Mia was never going to give you,” I break the news to her. “Aren’t you glad you found out now instead of later?”

“Aww, a fuckboy with only my best interest at heart. Very noble.” Sweat drips down her body and between her cleavage. Ponytail wild, cheeks red with exertion, I’ve never seen a woman look sexier.

“I try.” I give an exaggerated bow, and she sucker punches me in the left ribcage before marching to the ropes.

“Wait a minute.” I wheeze, chasing after her. I get to the ropes first and hold them open so she can climb through. She does, and I get a nice view of her voluptuous ass before I slip through the ropes myself, following her down the steps. “Russell wanted me to get the word out about a gig tomorrow night. They need bartenders. You interested?”

“How do you know I used to bartend?” She eyes me with suspicion.

“I didn’t. But figured if you can deal cards, you can deal drinks.”

“Will you and Mia be bartending?” she demands.

“No.” Mia’s served her purpose; as soon as I lock things down with Sal, she’s ghosted.

Taylor squares her jaw. “Then yes, I’m in.”

“Unblock me, and I’ll send you the deets.” I grab my phone from my pocket.

“Deets, not dick pics.” She shoots me a withering look before scrolling on her phone.

“I was just accepting your offer.”

“Gavin—”

“Okay, I’ve forwarded you the info?—”

Taylor gives me a parting jab to the stomach before walking off.

She doesn’t have time for obsessed fuckboys, I don’t have time for fiery redheads, but here we are.