Loving Kinnick (Rewritten)

I Am Stupid Enough To Believe He Can Change

When I woke up covered in my blankets, it was from my phone ringing and not a nightmare. The note next to my phone was signed by Miles, a quick scribble that told me to call him if I needed anything. He apologized for leaving abruptly, but I couldn't blame him. He sat by my side for hours, listening to me cry. I wouldn't blame him if he never talked to me again.

John's name flashed across the screen of my phone. With my shaky fingers, I slid the answer button to the side as I brought my phone to my ear. I could hear the music playing in the background and the loud voices coming through the other side.

"Bo? Are you not coming tonight?"

I sucked in a deep breath. "John - I am sorry."

"What happened?" He sighed. "Does it have to do with Kinnick's mood?"

"John," I winced. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Do you need a friend?" His voice asked softly. "Where are you?"

When I revealed my location, he promised to pick me up. I wasn't sure how quickly he would make it until, not even fifteen minutes later, he was pulling into the driveway. I pulled my curls into a bun on the top of my head before making my way down the stairs to meet him. As I slid into his passenger seat, he pulled out pain relievers and tissues.

"I could tell you were crying," he dropped the medicine into my hand. "I figured you would have a headache, so I brought these just in case."

I leaned over the center console, pulling him into a hug. "You are the best, John."

He kissed the top of my head. "I couldn't let you have a bad day, kid."

As I fell back into the comfort of his seats, I could feel my eyes drooping. The pain from Kinnick's words still had a hold of my heart, and I thought falling asleep would make it easier, but the time never helped me heal. I wasn't sure where John was taking me, but I relaxed in the heat of his leather.

When I felt as though I would fall asleep, his car came to a rolling halt. As the gym came into view, I shot forward with panic. Parked on the other side of the street was Kinnick's truck. I couldn't go inside.

"I won't let anything happen," he looked over at me. "But the easiest way to let it go is to let it out."

As I stepped out of the car, I could see Kinnick. My heart stopped because I knew this was the place he ran to whenever he needed an escape. It wasn't like my eyes didn't search for him in every room I walked into, but it was the sound emitting from his hands that made me find him.

The punching bag his fists were relentlessly laying into couldn't sit still. I looked at the chain holding it up, following the metal to the ceiling, wondering when it would break. The more it swang back and forth, the more I started to question the strength of chains.

"Will that hold?"

"If it doesn't, it will come out of his paycheck," John shrugged. "I am going to guess you got into a fight? That is the only reason I can explain why you were crying and he is pissed off."

"When isn't he pissed off?"

His eyebrows raised as he nodded. "True. Who would you rather train with today?"

I laid my head against his shoulder, smiling up at him. "You?"

"Why not?" He chuckled. "Get in the ring. I'll grab the gear."

While he walked off toward the cabinets, I started wrapping my hands with the cloth he threw toward me. Ever since I started, John made sure the stairs stayed next to the ring. I felt my toes curl as he treated me like family. The accommodations he made to the gym made that clear. He added air fresheners around the room and put the toilet seat down.

"Bo," Riley caught my attention as he hung on the ropes. "How are you?"

"Great," I grinned.

"There has been talk," he slipped off of the ring. "Supposedly, you are a badass in the ring with a killer right hook."

My eyebrows stitched together. "Who told you that?"

"Kinnick did," he pointed toward the brooding boxer. "He always talks you up."

"Riley," John stammered, choking on his words. "Hey - uh. How are you?"

"Good," the man smiled. "See you around, yeah?"

My trainer nodded as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Mhm, yeah."

I looked between the two, cocking an eyebrow as I focused on John specifically. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he changed the subject. "Simple one-twos, okay?"

"Mhm," I hummed. "Whatever you say, John."

John started me off slow with a few upper-cuts to the pads on his hands and a sequence change. As my gloves collided with the rubber padding, I felt myself growing weaker. I saw tattooed arms leaning on the red ropes from the corner of my eye, and I couldn't help but breathe heavily as his words started replaying in my head again.

"Bo -"

I threw a hard right hook into John's pad as he spoke to his boxer. "Not now."

"I wasn't talking to you," Kinnick snapped. "Bo, please -"

"Then you aren't here to talk to anyone," John dropped his hands, turning to Kinnick. "Go home and use the rest of the night to calm down."

"You are making me leave?" Kinnick seethed. "You would be nothing without me - I am the reason this gym is still fucking running."

"And I am the reason you are still here," John's voice lowered as he pointed toward the door. "You can come back tomorrow, but I am not dealing with your shit tonight."

Kinnick's icy blue eyes turned to me as he clenched his jaw. Just as I thought he was about to speak, he turned around. My body jumped as his fist collided with the wall next to the ring. John tossed his pads onto the ground, letting out curse words as he expressed his frustration. I wasn't sure what upset him, but I didn't want to be the wedge between his relationship with Kinnick.

"John, I am sorry for bringing my trouble here."

He looked at me as his head moved back and forth. "It has nothing to do with you. Kinnick can be too much sometimes."

"I don't want to be the reason you fight."

"Sweetheart, there isn't a day where Kinnick and I aren't fighting," he rubbed his face. "He doesn't know how to handle his emotions, and I am stupid enough to believe that he can change, but I love him despite all of it."