Teach Me to Please | Please Me #1

TWENTY EIGHT

So, my birthday didn't go as planned. I had a nice night with my parents, but they knew something was wrong. I didn't tell them what because I wanted to have a nice time. They knew I was no longer with Adam and my mom has kept trying to get me to open up about it but every time she tried, I was too tired to talk. I knew it wasn't the healthiest to postpone your problems but sometimes you aren't ready to open up those wounds just yet. I didn't know if I was going to be able to for a while.

   "What's the date of the September Massacres?" I asked, lying on a bench with my feet crossed in the air.

   "17..." punch, punch, "72." Roman answered. He was training with Jesse in the ring as I worked through some History homework.

  I wrote down the answer as Jesse made some side comment about Roman's punches. Roman had already started training with Jesse when I arrived and so I made myself comfortable. He didn't even acknowledge me that much which got on my nerves. Had I done something? Was he okay? I had so many questions that I felt too scared to ask.

  As well as that, Roman shirtless, punching the training pads on Jesse's hands, the muscles on his back rippling as his skin gleamed with sweat made it difficult to focus on what I was doing. I held my breath and bit my lip as I watched him, punching ruthlessly into the pads, standing tall, looking as powerful as ever.

   "Didn't realise your homework was on Roman's back, Sienna." Jesse called over with a stupid smirk on his face. Tattletale.

  I quickly averted my gaze and focused back on what I was doing. Tried to at least. The constant grunts and groans slipping from Roman's mouth as he worked his punches harder was enough to make my legs clench together.

  Fuck, I needed to talk to Roman about what was going on with us.

  I spent the next hour trying to finish my essay, attempting to put my full time and attention into it but the knowing of the smoking hot boxer several feet away almost forced me to keep stealing glances at him.

  By the time I had finished the essay, Jesse had tapped out for a break to get some water, leaving Roman and I and the awkwardness was too much to bear.

   "You done?" Roman then turned to ask me. The sweat dripping down his bare chest took my attention before his words did. "Sienna?"

   "Erm, yeah." I snapped out of it. "You can check it over if you want." I held up hand up to him in the ring. He nodded, unstrapping his hands from the boxing gloves, wiping them down his gym shorts.

  I waited nervously as he took the paper and scanned his eyes across my work. Please say it's good. Please say it's good. Please say it's good.

   "It's good." He finally commended. Thank god. I let out a sigh of relief as he handed it back. I couldn't help but want more praise though. Good how? Good excellent? Good decent? Good it's the best essay I've ever read? Why was I overthinking this so much?

   "Good how?" stupid, why did you have to ask that? I sound so desperate.

   "What d'you mean?" Roman walked away and towards the punching bag set up in the corner of the ring.

   "Just like, um, how good is it? Like on a scale of 1-10?" yep, I sounded so desperate.

   "I don't know." He chuckled lightly and strapped tape around his knuckles, biting the end off with his teeth. Damn, he could bite my – not now, Sienna.

Was it that bad? Oh my god, it was that bad.

   "I like you're writing." He then said as he aimed a punch at the bag.