Page 41 of The Diávolos: Part Two
I roll my eyes and walk to the back locker room to change into my training clothes.
When I step back out, I ignore the annoyingly good-looking man in the corner and hop into the boxing ring where Mickey is waiting for me.
Her knowing smirk is still on her face, and I hate them both right now.
“Alright. Give me fifty burpees to start. Then, hip rotations and ten low turning kicks on each side. When you’re done, I want you to throw light punches in the air,” Mickey instructs.
I begin my warmup routine, awareness tingling through my entire body. I’m already hot.
Hot because Evander is shooting flames right at me. Not bad flames.Goodflames. And it’s making me overheat.
Halfway through, I can’t take it anymore. “Can you go away? You’re distracting me,” I shoot at him.
All Evan does is laugh and not move.
Without stopping my movements, I add, “Don’t you have something better to do? You know…with your business and all.” His club just burned down and he’s here watching me. I shouldn’t feel flattered by it, I should beangry. Angry that he’s invading my space, that he’s watching me.
When I’m done and almost out of breath, Mickey pays no mind to my distress and pulls on her boxing pads.
“Good job. Now that we’ve got your blood flowing…”Understatement. “We’ll start slow and work our way up.”
I nod and bring my weight to the balls of my feet, softening my knees. My dominant fist comes up and Mickey nudges my elbow to bring my arm higher, so my glove is just touching the side of my cheek. “Always keep your arms close to your body. It’ll increase the power of your punches and not leave your body exposed,” Mickey explains.
“Now, set up your punches by throwing a couple jabs, then I want a cross punch. Continue with jab-cross-jab-cross-hook-hook until you tire yourself out.”
I do as I’m told while Evan watches, and I eventually forget he’s there. After an unknown amount of time, my movements start to slow and I come to a stop, exhausted.
“You did great, Ang! Take a minute to rest and have a sip of water.”
My arms feel like Jell-O as I walk to the edge of the ring and, and when I chance a glance at Evan again, he’s not there. My head whips around to look for him, but he’s gone. Without saying goodbye?Whatever, I asked him to leave, anyway.
When I get back to the middle, I expect to see Mickey waiting for me, but I findhiminstead.
“What are you doing?” I blurt out, surprised.
He slips on a pair of boxing mitts. “Fighting you,” he responds casually with the small flash of a grin.
“I see that, but why?” Where did he even get workout clothes? He was wearing a three-piece suit when we walked in, and I don’t remember seeing him carry a bag.
“Because I want to.” He shrugs his shoulders and puts a mouth guard. “Let’s go, little angel.”
Mickey reappears at the side and gives me an encouraging grin.
“Fine,” I acquiesce. What better way to let out my frustration than using Evander as a punching bag. This is my one opportunity to get back at him. I’ll show him what it is to mess with me.
I get in the proper stance and, when Mickey gives us the go, I don’t hesitate to throw a punch at Evan. He dodges it with ease and bounces backward. I step forward to jab him again, but he sidesteps, and I miss. I grunt under my breath, barely loud enough for him to hear. I don’t want him to know that he’s already getting to me.
I try the same approach a few more times, but Evan avoids every single one of my punches. This time, I growl out loud and charge at him like an angry bull, ignoring Mickey's shouted reprimands.
I manage to trip him, Evan’s loud laugh reverberating through the gym as he falls onto his back. With both my legs straddling his waist, I attack him with my fists. He counters my attacks by shielding his face with his arms. I hit his chest and stomach, but he just laughs some more.
“GAH! Why are you made ofsteel?” I yell.
In one swift movement, Evan grabs my forearms and flips me onto my back, his hard body wedged between my legs, his hardening crotch pressed against my center. A strangled moanslips out of my mouth, and I press my lips together, horrified that I reacted this way in front of Mickey.
Evan lowers himself further onto me, crushing my chest, and I struggle to catch a full breath. With his lips pressed against my ear, he says, “Seeing you this wound up is turning me on,angeloúdi mou. Maybe you need to fight me more often.”
I wriggle under him to escape his hold, but he doesn’t budge. “Get off me, Evander.”
