Knockout (Gaslight spin-off)

30| Trouble, trouble

Coach gathers his things as I stare at the ring, hands clenched by my sides. I shouldn't be jealous – I have no right to be. Wasn't it my idea to pretend our kiss never happened? Hadn't I wanted to keep things professional? Nico is doing exactly what I asked, so why am I so irritated?

With a sling of his bag, Coach walks over and reaches into his wallet. "You don't have to clean up today. I'll pay you anyway – call it compensation for your help tonight."

He's giving me an out – a reason not to train with Nico tonight – but as mad as I am, part of me wants to be around him regardless. "It's fine," I say, raising my hand. "Cleaning is kind of therapeutic for me."

Coach tilts his head. For a moment, I think maybe he sees through me. "You're one weird kid. Don't forget to lock up."

"I won't, but Coach?" He turns around, a thick eyebrow arched as he waits for me to continue. "Can I take a quick picture of you for the GymCon account?"

He frowns and glances at the door like he's contemplating making a getaway. Turning back to me, he lifts his hat to ruffle his hair and lowers it again. "Fine, but make it quick. My tv show starts soon."

I smile and pull my phone from my pocket before clicking on the camera. Surveying the room, I think about where the best place for him to stand is and order him in front of the heavy bags. "Okay," I say, positioning my camera, "now smile."

Coach grimaces.

I glance at the picture I'd taken and frown. "We should do another one," I say, "but this time try to actually smile."

"I am smiling, damn it."

I snap a few more before I realize that not being photogenic is a real thing, because on camera, Coach looks like a cracked-out potato. "Okay, one more," I say, and then I pull the most ridiculous face in the hopes it'll loosen up his expression. He looks at me, first in that way that suggests I'm an idiot, and then with a lopsided grin.

I snap it. With a quick look at the picture, I smile. "That's a wrap."

"Did you get my good angle?" he asks.

"Yes, I got your good angle."

He nods before heading to the door. When he gets there, he turns, that fatherly expression in place. "Don't forget to–"

"Lock up. I know, I know."

The second he leaves, I grab some tape and wrap my hands. Nico arrives moments later, strolling into the gym as casually as always, his eyebrow raised as he dumps his bag.

"You and Coach go on a field trip?" he asks.

I don't answer right away; I concentrate on my hands like I'm not the slightest bit fazed by his presence. "Something like that." I look up finally, hating how handsome he looks in his t-shirt and sweatpants. Briefly, I think about how his hands felt as they lifted my thighs and wrapped them around him, which only adds to my annoyance. Why is my mind so weak? "I don't want to do drills today – I just want to spar."

Maybe it's not the healthiest decision to spar with a guy I'm mad at, but at least it'll make me feel better. Without a word, he moves to the equipment box, grabbing the tape as I head to the ring.

In my head, I've convinced myself my irritation has nothing to do with seeing that girl and Nico. Maybe I'm tired – it's been a long day – or maybe my PMS is early this month. Whatever the case, it's not about Nico; I'm sure of it.

I step into the ring, my sneakers squeaking against the canvas as I shift into my stance. It's not long before Nico slips opposite, tall and intimidating but irritatingly handsome.