Page 27 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)

I roll my eyes at how pathetically lame she is. How fucking desperate can you look?

“When you fight, I’ll go down to see you. Dad would love that as well.”

I snort. She ain’t seeing him. Her gaze goes to me like I magically appeared.

“You brought a friend?” Her voice rings in annoyance.

Max tightens the last strip of cloth around his hands until they’re fully wrapped. He leans in, his fingers curling under my chin. Max pecks at my lips. “I’m going to hit the bag now. You can follow me if you’d like or watch from here, tesoro mío .”

I melt under his gaze, his touch, and the sound of his voice. I have not yet asked what those words mean in Spanish, but I sense it’s something sweet.

Max reaches for his gloves. He meets Annette’s open-mouthed gaze, watching us. “She’s mine,” is all he says, giving her his back.

“I thought you said you didn’t have a girlfriend the other night.” She smiles at me like she won, and I lost. She wants us to fight. But I’m not his girlfriend, per se.

Max stops walking, but he’s only a couple of steps away. There are some women watching the scene. Probably her friends.

His eyes narrow as he looks at Annette. “We may not have labels, but she’s fucking mine.” His voice holds a meaning to everyone in the room. “And I’m hers.”

I stand from the wooden bench where I was sitting. “It was nice meeting you, Annette. I didn’t get to say hi the other day when you were here with Max. I had just missed you when I walked in.”

She tilts her head and grins. “No labels.” She rolls her eyes. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. We can catch up and talk about when we were kids. My brothers should be here tonight. They want to see you.”

What the fuck? She ignored it all, still determined to go after him.

“Annette, come here,” an older man yells from a corner where he’s training some teens.

She huffs and leaves.

“She’s obsessed with you. Does she not get the hints?”

“Ignore her,” he drawls as he takes a swing.

The muscles in my stomach pinch when Max enters the ring.

I know this is just sparring, but damn, it scares me.

Max bounces on his feet when the bell rings and raises his gloved hands to his face.

His opponent mirrors his stance, and they begin to circle each other in the center of the ring.

Max takes a step forward and unleashes a swift swing toward his opponent’s jaw.

His opponent lunges forward with a swift jab, but Max easily blocks it with a well-practiced move.

Dodging and weaving, he unleashes a flurry of punches—an uppercut followed by a powerful double jab.

The audience roars as Max’s movements become more fluid and calculated, exuding power and determination.

Recently, Max taught me about boxing and the names of each different punch. He’s a fucking badass. Shit. My heart swells with pride.

His opponent loses balance and falls to his back with an uppercut to the rib and then a double jab-cross to the face. The bell rings to announce that the round has ended.

They go for three rounds. Max has the upper hand, although the guy is good. Max towers over him. With one swift hit to the jaw, the guy fumbles to the floor. The bell rings, and Max wins. My heart is beating wildly. This is just a spar, imagine an actual fight.

Max raises his gloved fist and touches it to his opponent’s. After the fight, he removes his protective gear and steps out of the ring. A group of men eagerly approaches him, congratulating him on his impressive skills. Whispers fill the room, recognizing him as a talented fighter.

He nods, passing each guy, not stopping to speak to them. His gaze is on me. Sweat trickles down his forehead, and his tan complexion glows. His powerful shoulder strains the seam of his shirt, muscle on top of muscle, and he’s all mine.

A smile of triumph spreads on my face. His hands go to my ass as he brings me to his wet chest. “Are you ready?” He looks across the room. “Every man has been eye fucking you.” He licks his lips. “It’s hard to fight when I’m watching you and trying to kick his ass.”

“No one has been eye fucking me,” I whisper.

“Oblivious, you are.”

I’ve been too busy watching Max to notice any men staring at me. “You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

He swallows and shakes his head. “Let’s go before I kick someone’s ass without protective gear.” He omits my praise. I’m sure he’s never been told. Max swings his bag over his shoulder.

I nod. He takes me by the waist, guiding me toward the exit.

Voices shout as we walk. “You’re a good fighter, man.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

An older man calls his name. Max stops in his tracks. “Max, I’m impressed more each time. Carlos taught you well,” he says, with Annette by his side.

“He did. As you already know, he’s trained many professionals.”

The man, I think, is the owner, nods to him. “You’ve been in good hands, then. Would you like to come over for dinner? It’s been a while.”

Annette smirks at me. That woman is so fucking annoying, and I bet that’s her father.

“I appreciate the invite, Rico, but my girl and I have plans.”

My girl? My stomach flutters with happiness.

“Alright, some other time.”

We exit the bustling gym, which was filled to the brim with people. The sky is dark, and a storm has begun to pour down upon us tonight. The forecast predicted rain, so it was no surprise. Personally, I’ve always enjoyed rainy days. They have a special place in my heart.

“Is it always this packed with people?” I ask, just as Max pins me to the car.

His lips catch me by surprise. The heat of his lips feels like wax melting under the flames of desire.

This kiss is possessive. The scent of his sweat turns me on.

Weird, I know, but fuck, who doesn’t love a man who works out?

He steps back, licking his lips, and I’m still trying to recuperate from the brutal, hot kiss.

“No, it’s never this packed. Only because I was sparring today.”

Wow, just imagine if he fought for real. It would be a massive crowd.

“What was that for?”

He opens the passenger door to the Nova. “What?”

“The kiss?”

His hands grip the door, and his jaw clenches. “For the mother fuckers watching us. And because having you by my side watching sent blood rushing to a certain area.”

My head falls back in laughter. I don’t know how I can ever live without him again. He has become the air I breathe.

I catch my breath after the heart-thumping orgasm Max just gave me. “Let’s wash your hair,” Max instructs. “Who called you when we were driving home?” His fingers massage my scalp in a gentle, romantic way. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it.

“It was my dad. He said he wanted to talk to me about something important.” He claimed we needed to talk about something vital. I’m still pissed at him, and I will always hold resentment toward him.

“Oh, you sounded mad,” he says, adding body wash to a sponge.

“I am.” I shake my head. “The way he treated my mom pisses me off.”

“I don’t blame you. Your mom needs someone on her side.”

I turn to face him. “I know. Mom has been taking it hard these past months. That’s why I didn’t go home for summer break.” My voice cracks. “I know it’s dumb, but it doesn’t feel like a family anymore.”

He kisses my lips. “I understand exactly what you mean.”

My heart sinks to the ground. My parents are alive, and his mom isn’t. I shouldn’t be such a whiner.

“I’m sorry your family is going through some hard times.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was all my dad’s doing.” The water cascades down my back as I get the last soapsuds off my body. “Your turn.”

He eyes me as I run a sponge on his muscles, ripped across his taut stomach and immaculately sculpted chest.

“So, you’re going to fight next month?” I ask, remembering Annette forcing herself on him.

“Yes, it’s an amateur fight. Unfortunately, I don’t get paid for them.

I have a lot of wins. Carlos, my trainer, called me the other day.

I’m unsure if I’ve told you, but Carlos has trained me since I was sixteen.

I’ve been fighting for quite some time now.

” He runs his hands through his hair, shaking water out.

“Carlos thinks I’m ready to go pro once I get a couple more fights in. ” He shrugs. “We’ll see.”

“Do you not want to go pro?”

“I love boxing, but I’m not sure I would like the attention that comes with it.”

Max shuts the water off and then hands me a towel. Yeah, my broody man, he’s not big on attention or speaking with people.

Max quickly throws on a pair of jeans and a snug black shirt. We’ve made plans for Christmas in July tonight, and I can’t wait to see his reaction. I’ve never really celebrated the holiday in July before, aside from taking advantage of sales.

“If you ever decide to go pro, I’ll always cheer you on.”

Thunder strikes, causing the house to tremble. I guess the storm coming in is like a winter storm with no snow for us.

“You look beautiful.” He flashes his white teeth, his gaze fixed on my green summer dress.

An hour later, Max left for the store. I’m unsure for what. He said he’d be back soon before the storm hit.

I pressure-cook a perfectly seasoned roast with vegetables. It’s probably the easiest thing to make so I can bake cookies.

The front door slams open. “Rainey Collins,” a loud, familiar voice echoes in the empty house.

I jump, startled, and put my hands on my chest.

My father stands in the doorway with his copper-red hair a mess. A frown deepens on his handsome face.

“Dad, what are you doing here?”