Loving Kinnick (Rewritten)

Why Is The Turkey Burnt?

I couldn't stop staring at her. My eyes trailed up her body. From the red high heels on her feet to the nude dress hanging loosely off of her shoulders, I was fucking captivated by it all. Her hair fell down her back, silky and perfectly done. The red lipstick on her lips was coated several times because she wanted to repeat our bedroom activities a few more times before we left.

She stood at the table, talking to Charlie. I brought the beer bottle to my lips, wincing at the pain in my sides as I tried sitting straight. Bo didn't appear to be sore, but fuck, I was. She knew what would happen, and she protested it, but I told her I was okay - that it didn't hurt. I was more interested in the way she cried out my name below me and less interested in the way I hurt.

"You okay?" Miles grabbed my shoulder.

I looked over at him. "A little bit of pain. That's all."

"You did rupture a kidney, and break three ribs."

"What?" I stared at him with shock. "It's as if I am not reminded every time I move."

"Are you doing okay?"

I nodded my beer towards Bo. "Because of her."

"She is special," he grinned. "What time are we meeting at her dad's place tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "It depends on how much of that punch she drinks. I'm not sure if she knows it has alcohol in it."

He chuckles. "She is a different kind of person when she is drunk."

Her eyes met mine and a smile grew on her lips. She lifted her hand to give me a small wave. Chrissy came through the door, and Miles almost fell out of his seat. I wouldn't have taken my eyes off of Bo to see that, but he spit out his drink.

"What the fuck?"

He wipes his mouth. "Shit. Sorry, man."

"What was that about?" I looked at the dress on Chrissy. "You have it out for her, don't you?"

He leaned back into his seat. "Yes. As if it wasn't obvious."

"Do something about it."

He looked at me with bewilderment. "She has Tyler."

"Not according to Bo."

"Really?"

"Go find out."

John stepped into view, scolding me for not showing up on time. He started to bring up my past, and all of the times I was late to his parties. How I was late to my own parties. Well, when he has someone as hot as Bo in his bed, then he will understand.

Yet, he wasn't as concerned with my ability to be late to every event but wanted to talk about my future with boxing. He asked me about the fight in Vegas and if I wanted to take it. I wanted to. I haven't turned down a fight, ever. I didn't care if I was hurt, I wasn't going to turn down this one.

I don't know how much longer I will be able to fight. With my condition growing worst, I won't be able to see by god knows when. John was talking to people, trying to figure out what we could do. He didn't understand my dad did something to me that can't be fixed. Well, that I know of. The last time I was in a hospital was five days ago. Before that? I don't know.

"Kinnick," John frowned. "We've talked about this. He can do whatever he wants to you."

"John," I leaned forward on my elbows. "I don't know how much longer I will be able to fight."

He rubbed his face. "There is a surgery you can get. I mean, you can fix your eyesight, but there is a chance it might not work."

"Then what?"