Alexander Ace Peterson has been an underground boxer for nearly his whole life, its always the same thing, train, fight, and win. But his boss tells him that they need something new, that something being a woman. Would having a woman join the fight...
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Blair♧
"Are you going to tell me what the hell that was?" Asks Alex calmly but I can tell he is dying for an answer.
He tilts my chin up with one hand and uses the other hand to dab the cut above my brow with a cotton bud and I feel too shaken up to wince at the pain.
Damien, Max and Kingston all wanted to come into the waiting room with me but I said no, once I had woken up from my black out I craved comfort and comfort for me is Alex. I have no idea where Eric is but I don't want to think about him, my anger will only arise.
I nibble on my bottom lip, I can't tell if he's mad at me or not and it discourages me to think that he could be.
"Are you angry at me Alex?" I ask quietly and hold my breath in anticipation.
He pauses with his hand in mid air and places the cotton bud down on the tray with a sigh. He looks at me heavily and brings his two hands to cup my face gently and I shudder at his touch.
"I could never be angry at you Blair, I'm angry at Eric. He lied and he could have gotten you killed," he says and he searches my eyes for something.
"If he had gotten you killed I can guarantee you that he would not be breathing right now. I can't live without you," he mummers and I find myself leaning forward.
I go to speak but he presses his finger to my lips. "Quiet now, let me help you. I'm returning the favour," he smiles and I nod.
He gently begins to wipe the blood away from my upper lip with an antiseptic wipe and I admire his face. His teal eyes and eye brows that are furrowed in concentration and slight frustration, along the bridge of his nose are a few freckles that I never noticed before and his cheeks are tinted slightly pink. Is that from the heat?
My eyes trail down to the side of his neck where his heart shaped birth mark is. I itch to touch it and with finally listening to my thoughts I bring my finger and gently trace the heart shape.
I feel him tense and then relax and he draws in a deep breath holding it. I stop tracing it and drop my hand back down to my lap and finally look at him. His face is in awe and anticipation as his hand hovers over the cut above my lip. His eyes twinkle and he slowly very slowly smirks.
"Finished?" He asks and I blush deep, deep red.
"Stop smirking," I mumble and look away from him, the heat still arising down to my neck.
"Is the Blair Abbot blushing?" He teases and I smack his hand away.
"We're done now," I declare preparing to hop off the bench but he stops me by placing both his hands on either side of me caging me against the bench. His breath becomes laboured and short and his eyes are heavy with something I can't put my finger on.
