Page 10 of Sucker Punch Drunk Love

“We’ll see? What does that mean?” she asked for clarification.

“We’ll see means, this is a transitional period, where I’m willing to see if we candoanything with what youhave—” as before I could stop her, she bounced on the balls of her feet and reached in and hugged me.

“¡Qué carajo! ?*What are you doing?” interrupting her action, as she immediately withdrew, her expressive eyes full of instant regret.

“I’m sorry, I just got excited,” she apologized.

“Look, if I’m going to train you, keep that excitement to yourself. In fact, if we’re going to make this work, I’ve got about afewboundaries that I’ll need in order for me to feel like you’retaking this seriously. First off, no hugs. I’m not your brother. I’m not your father, and I’m not your friend. I’m your trainer. I want things professional, so let’s keep it that way.” She reluctantly nodded, and I could tell through her hesitancy, that that was something I needed to put out there first.

“Two, I don’t want to hear any excuses. When I ask you to do something, I don’t want to hear you’re tired, or had a bad day, frankly, I don’t wanna hear anything but,Yes Coach. Is that clear?”

“Okay.”

“And while we’re at it, no fucking crying. If you want me to treat you like a fighter, and not afemalefighter, don’t remind me you are. Keep your emotions in check. I don’t think I have to tell you, don’t bring any drama into my house. When you’re inHouse of Beast, it’s my house. You got that?”

“Yes, coach,” she said, pursing her lip.

“Right now, you’re giving bunny rabbit, and atHouse of Beast, I trainbeasts. If you think you have what it takes, I’m gonna need you to bear those teeth. I’m gonna need a version of you that’s un-fucking-hinged. Until I see that, all we’re doing will be a ‘we’ll see’,” I clarified.

“So, when do you start training me?” she asked, eager to get things moving.

“Tomorrow. 8:00 am. Give me five-to-six days. Four to six hours each time, so we can balance out your strengths and work on your weaknesses?—”

“About that. I try to train every day,” she interrupted.

“Not with me, you don’t. Everything you currently do, forget it. I don’t want your past habits to interfere with my plans to train you. So, five-to-six, for four-to-six. Got that?”

“Will that be four to six hours at one time?”

“No, genius. Conditioning in the morning, floor work and sparring practice at night. Ain’t you ever been properly trained before?” I challenged.

“By someone as good as you? No. But to make your schedule work, I’d probably have to work something out with my job. Split shifts or something.”

“So that settles it. Put your number in my phone. I’ve got my work cut out for me, so you better get some rest tonight, because you’re gonna need it.” She put her number in my phone and handed it back to me, as I nearly rolled my eyes at the smiling face with heart emoji on each sides of her name. This was going to be harder than I thought.

“Thank you for this,” she clasped her hands together, like she was about to bow or something.

“Don’t thank me yet. I promise you, you’re not always gonna like my kind of training. I’m gonna push you, so before this even starts, I have toknowyou’re serious.”

“I’m serious?—”

“Don’ttellme.Showme. 8:00 am. Tomorrow. Oh, and one more thing. Next time you take a slug at me, make sure it’s my left eye. I’m not trying to go blind.”

***

8:11.

This woman had me waiting on her for eleven minutes before she finally pranced up. I had texted her before midnight to meet me at Ivy Hill Park, having spent two hours before bed studying the fights of who I was looking at as a consideration for Medina’s first fight. And evenImade it on time.

“I’ve been waiting close to fifteen minutes,” I acknowledged coldly.

“I had to take the bus here,” she defended. “I got here as early as I could?—”

“Yesterday, I told you I didn’t want an excuse. Training started at 8:00. Not 8:01. Not 8:15, and certainly not 8:11. If it’s not an emergency, I expect you to be here on time. Tomorrow, you either show up on time, or don’t at all,” I ordered, as she apologized and we started with a run.

Her stamina wasn’t bad for a regular person, but she’d have to be able to withstand people who could run laps around her, so I was trying to observe how quickly she got out of breath. It didn’t help that, in an attempt to make up for her tardiness, she was trying to prove how decent of shape she was in by trying to hop in front.

All that did was bring attention to that perfectly shaped ass of hers in her compression pants. ¡Coño?*! I was supposed to be training her, not checking out her body. But could you blame me, it was hard not to. Whether it was muscle or fat, it was like, the shape of a perfect peach.