Page 73 of Forever Fighting
I find her on the hammock, swinging gently as she reads whatever it is she’s reading while looking cozy and adorable. “Hey, kid. You move today?”
I get a middle finger that makes me laugh.
“Good stuff. The gym called. They got me a bag. You cool if I go work out?”
I get a hand wave this time.
“Wanna come with me?”
Another middle finger.
Life would be so much easier if I weren’t so fucking in love with this woman.
“I could teach you how to box.”
“Ro, in all the years of our friendship and all your attempts to teach me to box, have I ever taken you up on that offer?”
“No, my beautiful wife, but you also never thought it would be fun to marry me before either and now look at us.”
“Ha. So funny.”
I lean against the wall and fold my arms as I watch her. “You just don’t want to see me shirtless and sweaty. You’re afraid it’ll turn you on and make you wet.”
I don’t even get a spare glance. “You’re quite full of yourself.”
“Yes, but think, you could be full of me too.”
An eye roll. “Go box.”
I’m so screwed. Especially when my phone vibrates in my pocket and I see it’s an email from Katie with a revised contract from the supplier, along with a resend of the email with the rental listings she wants me to pick through. Rentals I don’t have it in me to look at. Not yet.
Boxing. That I can do. That will fix everything as it always does.
I change into gym shorts, sneakers, and a different shirt before I hit the trail and run all the way across the resort to the gym. It’s empty at this hour of the day, but when I get there, the attendant leads me to a separate room where they have yoga mats and balls.
“We got you a big bag and a little one,” he tells me.
He means a heavy bag and a speed bag. I’m in fucking heaven.
“Muchas gracias.” I’ll have to remember to heavily tip the manager. They even have tape here for me. I can’t believe they did this.
I wrap my hands up and pop in my AirPods, setting my phone to my workout mix. It’s a heavy metal, angry as all fuck kind of anthem, and I start off on the heavy bag, working side lunges and punches one after another. I go hard, working my muscles and quieting my mind.
After that, it’s the speed bag with rolling wrists and alternating hands. Punch, punch, punch, dip-sway, dip-sway theother direction, punch, punch, punch. My muscles vibrate. My body hums. I block everything out. The restaurants. Europe. Adam. Guilt.
But no matter how hard I try, there is no blocking her out. All I want is to be with her. Except if I’ve learned one thing, life doesn’t care about what I want. Not when it comes to Braelyn.
23
BRAELYN
The hammock sways gently, my eyes half-closed as I lazily read the book Wren suggested. Roman and I had breakfast, but then he went to his restaurant, and I couldn’t muster the energy to do much. After sitting in the pool for an hour, followed by the beach under an umbrella for a bit, I found myself back here. It’s been the best lazy day ever.
The gym procured Roman a punching bag to work out with. I could see the excitement in his eyes. Sometimes it’s good to be a Fritz.
I shooed him away since I know he was anxious to go train or whatever. That’s where he’s been for the last couple of hours until maybe fifteen minutes ago, when I heard him return and the water running in the shower.
“I see you’ve moved,” he quips, standing on the edge of the doorway.
