Shadowboxer (Tapped Out 1)

“Yes,” I replied, well aware she wasn’t listening.

She stopped to talk to a guy with wavy dark hair. He tossed it back out of his eyes every few moments as if he had a permanent twitch. TV shampoo commercials had nothing on this dude.

“Bet she’s setting up something for later,” Spiky said with a smirk and a finger gesture that I was reasonably certain indicated a money exchange.

I hadn’t even seen the other bartender approach. I was too fixated on Mia, who was now leaning toward the dark-haired guy. She had her mouth against his temple.

My hand fisted around the empty beer as something nasty brewed in my gut. I wasn’t jealous by nature. The feeling was almost as foreign to me as love. Despite my issues with them, I loved my parents—distantly, in a very hands-off sort of way. I had buddies I was close to. My best friend, Slater, especially. I’d occasionally been jealous in school when other guys beat me at a track meet or asked out the girl I’d wanted to invite to Prom. But this felt much more personal.

“D’you want a drink now?”

I started to answer Spiky. Then Mia drew back from the guy and he reached out for her, aiming for either her forearm or her breast. Hard to tell. Annoyance flared over her face, transforming her expression from flirty to lethal in a heartbeat. I’d already started to rise when she grabbed the beer bottle nearest her elbow and broke it over the edge of the bar. They were too far away for me to hear what was said, but from her come hither gesture and the shocked gasps that erupted around them, I figured she’d responded to his advances with one of her own.

I sank back in my seat, surprised and impressed. She could handle herself. Any woman who didn’t take shit from a man immediately rose in my estimation.

And sometimes my rising estimation decided to show itself in painful ways.

Wincing, I shifted on the stool. Christ, what was I? Sixteen? I hadn’t gotten near her and my balls were already aching.

“So what were you saying about her setting up something?” I asked Spiky with a grimace that only partly had to do with the bartender’s sneer in Mia’s direction.

Spiky slapped her arms over her heaving chest. “You want another beer or what?”

Mia

strode toward us, her posture so rigid I feared she’d punch me rather than the hair tosser. Perhaps feared wasn’t the right word. My cock stiffened more at the possibility.

Speaking of masochists…

“Sure.” I slid the empty toward Spiky.

Spiky shuffled off as Mia took her place. “Why the hell are you still here?” Her voice was way too loud considering people still watched her with wary eyes.

She must not mind the crazy bitch label. Another notch in her column. Another inch in my pants.

All right, half inch. Maximum capacity loomed larger with every passing second.

“I was thirsty.” I rolled my tongue over my lips and waited for her to growl. All she did was stare at my mouth, like she was starving and I’d just given her an all-access pass to the buffet. Leaning in, I moved as close the bar would allow. “I can see you’re too busy to refill my drinks. Maybe I need to set something up with you for later. Is that how it works?” I hadn’t meant to say that, but from the wild flash in her eyes I’d hit the target.

Her hand swung up and I caught it, bending her fingers into her palm and then lifting her knuckles to my lips. Hadn’t planned that either. This impetuous crap was getting out of control.

“You have something that belongs to me.” I quickly released her, since I suspected from the panic contorting her face that she’d snap her wrist to get free. “Let’s talk about it after you’re done with work.” Then I’d question her thoroughly about what she’d probably already found in my pocket.

“Why shouldn’t I just hand it over right now?” The quick pace of her breathing made mine speed mine up to match.

“You could. But I’m getting the idea you want to be alone with me. Isn’t that what he was all about?” I jerked my head toward the other end of the bar. “You’ve been ignoring me, knowing all the while it’s turning me on so much I couldn’t fucking walk out of here right now if I wanted to.”

Her lips trembled open and for a second I wasn’t certain she wouldn’t use my recently delivered fresh beer to threaten me as well. Bring it. If she wanted to fight, I’d let her expend her energy that way before we worked on expending mine in another.

She drew herself up, throwing her shoulders back and her breasts out in a move that wasn’t meant to seduce. I’d seen that same puffed chest thing more times than I could count in the ring. “Fine.” She tilted her head and her overlong bangs tangled with her lashes. “Give me your address. I’ll come by later.”

“When do you get off?” I hadn’t intended to make the question sexual, but from her soft noise of disgust she’d obviously taken it that way. “And women call men perverts. Christ.”

She gave me what might’ve been a real smile. Rare as a rainbow from her, and twice as beautiful. “I’m done at ten.”

I looked at my watch. A quarter to six. I’d handled some stuff at home before heading to the bar in shirtsleeves because the afternoon sun had felt warm. Big mistake. If I stuck around, I’d freeze my ass off on the walk back tonight.

Unless she finally coughed up my damn jacket.