Page 44 of Nights at Seaside
Adrenaline coursed through Sawyer’s veins. He’d been so wound up after Sky’s confession he’d come straight to the gym. He’d gone eight rounds on the heavy bag, four rounds on the double-end bag, five rounds of skipping rope, and by the time Roach came in, he was geared up and ready to spar. He was on his fifth round sparring Tanner Delroy, a professional sparring partner, and he had no desire to slow down.
“Come on, Delroy,” Roach hollered. “Get back in there and give it to him.”
Sawyer sneered around his mouth guard at Roach as he stepped into the ring. Roach was responding to the belligerent attitude Sawyer couldn’t seem to shake, and it only made Sawyer’s blood boil more intensely as he finished the round.
Sawyer was a master at staying grounded in the ring. He wasn’t a bouncer, like amateurs who fidgeted and moved all over the ring like scared mice. He was a powerful fighter who kept his center of gravity, stayed low, and had a core made of brick. He was fast and relentless, with match-stopping jabs that his competitors had saidlooked like they came from every direction—skills that had driven him to the top. Tanner Delroy was a strong competitor. As a professional sparring partner, he took a beating, but it was his chosen career—and he handled it well.
Tunnel vision brought Sawyer in close, taking advantage of the slightest opening with body shots and one final jab that sent Delroy flying off-balance and into the ropes.
“Ho! Hold up!” Roach stepped between Sawyer and Delroy, giving Sawyer a seriousandproud stare.
“You got me good,” Delroy said to Sawyer. A welt the size of an orange was spreading near his Adam’s apple.
“Sorry, Delroy. You’ll feel that one later.”
Delroy grinned and wiped blood from his lower lip with his forearm. “That’s what I’m here for, man. It’s all good.”
Sawyer paced the ring, itching to go again. Roach stepped up close, and Sawyer was sure he was going to give him a hard time for going after Delroy so hard.
“You paying attention to your body? Any numbness in your fingers? Blurred vision?”
Sawyer gritted his teeth, holding Roach’s dark gaze. “A warning doesn’t suddenly mess me up, Roach. Back off. I’m fighting.” Guilt clawed at his shoulders. Roach had been with him since the start, and Sawyer loved him like a brother, but he wasn’t going to let him come between him and winning that title fight for his father. “I’ve got this, and no, no signs of any of that crap.”
Roach nodded. “Stubborn jackass.” Roach glanced over his shoulder at the front of the gym and asked, “You expecting company?”
Sawyer looked over Roach’s shoulder and saw Sky, wide-eyed and holding on to the registration desk as if she needed to in order to remain standing.
He removed his gloves and climbed from the ring. “Give me a sec.”
“Sky.” Up close, nervousness radiated from her entire being, like a wounded bird with a cat hovering above.
As if she’d noticed this slight reveal, she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, hoping to ease the shock of seeing him fight, but she remained rigid beneath his touch.
“I didn’t know you were coming by.” He glanced at Brock, standing behind the counter, and Brock respectfully turned away.
“Neither did I.” She looked past him at Delroy. “Is that guy okay? You punched him in the neck.”
“Delroy?” He glanced back at his sparring partner, who was engaged in a serious conversation with Roach. He reminded himself that what he saw and what Sky saw were probably two very different things. “He’s my sparring partner. He’s paid to fight.”
“Butlookat his neck.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He reached for her hand, and although she didn’t readily grasp it, she also didn’t pull away. He was so thankful that he nearly said it aloud as he guided her away from the reception desk. The gym didn’t have sofas or chairs or a cozy nook in which to talk, but the other men in the gym were respectful enough to turn away.
“I…I should go. I don’t want to interrupt your training.”
“Sky.” He stepped in closer, and the wounded look in her eyes softened, although they were still bouncing between him and the back of the gym. He laced his fingers with hers, and when she accepted them, truly embraced his hand, a relieved sigh slipped from his lungs.
“I know this is probably hard for you to understand, but boxing is more than just two guys beating the heck out of each other.”
“How? I just don’t understand it, Sawyer. I came here thinking that maybe I was overthinking your fighting. That maybe we weren’t so far apart in our beliefs, since we’re so close in every other way. But…”
“Don’t saybut, Sky. Not yet. Boxing is just another art form. Like tattooing or singing, or playing the drums, or dancing.”
She scoffed. “You’re not serious.”
“Totally serious.” He wasn’t used to defending his career. Most people thought it was cool and exciting that he fought—but he didn’t care about most people. He cared about Sky. “Sky, I’ve worked for years to perfect my techniques and conquer my weight class. I’ve put years of study, years of practice into figuring out what worked, and honed my skills so I could beat everyone else. It’s not a game, or a way to just let loose and hurt someone. Boxing takes finesse as well as power.” The forcefulness of his tone surprised him, but he didn’t want to take a chance that she’d walk out that door without at least trying to understand. “I’ve gone through years of grueling workouts and given up significant parts of my life for months at a time. Fighting is a part of me, Sky. It’s what I’ve done since I was thirteen.”
Her lips parted as if she was going to say something, but no words came.
