Page 29 of Sucker Punch Drunk Love

“I was talking to a matchmaker right before the fight, I was gonna try to get you 3k for your next fight, but you gave such a hell of a switch up, I'm sure I could convince you're worth five. Ay, por díos?*! You had me worried.” It finally sinking in that she had won, and that I'd help her get her there. Caressing her hair,I soothed her nerves. “Alright, let's give you one to two weeks to heal up.”

“One to two weeks?” she whined. “I'm ready for another fight.”

“We need you at full strength before I can eventhinkabout your next fight. Take the break, you earned it after all that hard work. My God, that was amazing.” She hugged her opposite arm.

“I know you don't do hugs—” Her stance uncomfortable.

“Medina,tonight, my fighter wants a hug—” I said, reaching off the table and taking her in for a tight embrace. “My winner gets a fuckin’ hug!” Sierra had given it her all, but still managed to have something to give, pressing her body to mine.

Sometimes I had to remind myself that while she had that wolf in her, I really had to lean in just to get her into my arms. She was strong, but delicate. Headstrong, but equally fragile. She was the high I was chasing right now. For her. For me. And if I were smart about this, the closest we would ever become as a coach and fighter.

***

Walking through the duplexes’ front door, I sat a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter, curious as to why it was so quiet in the house. I casually roamed, stopping when I found Sierra in the den heavy at work on another one of her Lego sets. I got her some Lord of The Rings shit this time.

She was taking a resting period in stride, but I knew she was a little bored, given training had taken up so much of her time. She didn't know what to do with herself. Trying to balance a plate of rice and fried eggs over her lap and clicking pieces onto complimentary pieces, she looked really fuckin’ cute.

“You good kid?” She looked up finally noticing me, and nodded through big, curious eyes.

“Other than the fact that you don't have any ketchup,” she nodded, and I could barely hold another laugh before declaring between the eggs, rice, and need for ketchup, that she was the most Puerto Rican thing in this house.

“What? I need protein!”

“So, you needed thatwholeplate of white rice?”

“I mean, I need energy too. It's a good thing I'm not training. My shoulder’s a little sore. So, a week off feels really nice. I'm just bored.”

“Need me to knead that for you?”

“Okay,” she said, putting down her half-eaten plate, as she stretched out on the lounger nearby. Straddling her, it was hard being in perfect view of her flawless ass as she stripped down to her sports bra.

“You do have a lot of tension,” I noted, massaging the corner of her shoulder as I admired her strong back, smooth brown skin, and sexy tattoos. In my day, it was a big fucking deal for a woman to have a hidden one, let it on a dozen visible ones. It was actually kind of dope women her age did things with less fear or shame. There was really no wrong type of body for tatts, but I'd be lying if I said they didn't suit her.

“Mmm… that feels better.”

“Better?”

“Mmmhmm…”

“I know I didn't really say it in words the other day, but I'm so fucking proud of you.

“Shut up!”

“I'm being genuine for once. Por díos?*! I'm trying to tell you that you took natural talent and turned it into something useful. A lot of folks don't have to drive to see something through,especially this taxing. You've come a long way. I hope you're proud of yourself.”

“I like that you're proud of me.”

“You like thatI'mproud of you?”

“I mean, anyone could be happy for me. Proud of me. But I had to earn your respect. Most trainers that have offered to train me, I don't think they truly believe I had it what it took. I know I was hard headed, but thank you for not giving up on me. Everyone so far has given up on me.”

“Kid, first rule of thumb is never give up on yourself. You do that, and you'll soar. Counting yourself out before you start is like admitting defeat from the jump. And we've got a streak to protect. I'm getting so many calls about you, it's not even funny?—”

“Seriously?” she leaned up.

“Do you want me to fix this shoulder or not?” I challenged, as she lowered her chest back down to the larger surface. “I want you to go to distance, kid.”

“One day you're gonna realize I'm twenty-six and stop calling me kid.”