BOXER

seven

It was like someone had taken a school bus full of children and dropped it onto Luke's jaw.

Last night after he applied the ice pack and took some painkillers, he felt somewhat better. Although they seemed to wear off as he woke up to the same agonizing pain he felt the night before. The ice pack was now melted and the Ibuprofen was all way in the bathroom and Luke found himself wishing Brielle was there to take care of him again.

He was glad that she pretty much forced him to let her come upstairs with him, because he probably would've still been sprawled out in the middle of the bed in even more pain than he was in now if she hadn't. Not to mention, he also wouldn't have gotten her number.

Luke being the attractive boy he was, never really had problems getting girls. And the fact that he fought earned him extra attractive points. It was typical for him to get a few numbers after every match, most of the girls having the intention of a one night stand (and Luke wasn't complaining.) Although, getting Brielle's was different. When he read the little note she wrote, he felt like a fucking teenage girl at how giddy he got. He could imagine her saying it with the little grin she always had plastered on her face, too.

He lied there staring at her number that he recently saved in his contacts. He was tempted to call her, but he didn't know if it was too soon. It had been a while since he received a girl's number and actually had to think about when he should call her, since he generally never called them back.

So he ended up calling Michael instead like he promised.

Usually Michael took some time to pick up, especially in the morning, but this time Luke was greeted by his groggy voice after the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hi," Luke managed to say, although his jaw was still in pain, disabling his ability to talk out of one side of his mouth.

Michael snorted at the distortion in Luke's voice. "God, you sound stupid."

"Fuck you, you sound stupid," Luke retorted, unable to come up with a good comeback.

"Good one. So how did last night go?"

"It went fine. Brie was a good nurse," Luke said, a cheeky smile appearing on his lips at the thought of Brielle being his own personal nurse.

"I'm surprised she even helped you into the car let alone force you to let her into your apartment. She seemed pretty angry at you at the club," Michael admitted, not aware of the fact that Luke was completely unaware of this.

"Yeah, I-" Luke started to agree until he fully realized what Michael had said. "Wait what? Angry? She didn't seem angry?"

"Oh, she didn't uh, tell you?"

"What the fuck happened?" He asked, suddenly full of curiosity.

"I uh," Michael paused, part of him scared at how Luke would react. "I brought up the whole thing that happened with her and she got a little angry at the fact that I knew."

The line went silent for a few seconds until Luke's voice roared through the speaker.

"Oh my fucking god Michael, you fucking idiot! Why the fuck would you bring that up?!" Luke scolded, trying his hardest to sound serious even though he was still talking out of one side of his mouth.

"I'm sorry! I was telling her that it was nice of her to come despite of it," Michael muttered, trying to hide the sudden terror in his voice. Luke was still scary even when he sounded like he had some type of speech disorder.

Luke released a big huff of air as he dragged his hand over his face, stopping at his mouth to avoid his jaw. He didn't think Michael would be that big of a dumbass to bring it up, but he also didn't think Brielle would get upset at the fact that Michael knew. But the thought of Brielle being upset at him for something like this made him feel horrible, even if they didn't really know each other. She trusted him with this information (even though she didn't really have a choice) and he felt bad for disclosing it.