KNOCK OUT [LH]

Chapter 6: Milkshakes

Ever puke on the boxer you're trying to seduce and fall in love with fanfic style?

No? Just me then... 

Embarrassed doesn't even begin to describe what I felt doubled-over and blinking down at the acidic damage I've inflicted on Luke Hemmings' shoes. I was mortified, and the chorus of gasps from my new gym friends didn't help. In fact, the sick wave of stomach wrenching embarrassment almost had me throwing up all over again.

That's why I ran.

With my back pressed against the cool metal row of gym lockers, I humiliatingly sit on the floor of The Rumble's locker room, knees drawn up to my chest as I rest my sweaty forehead against them.

There was no way I could ever face Luke Hemmings again, not after this. I couldn't even look at him afterwards, but I didn't need to to know that he was beyond enraged. If the short-tempered boxer didn't like me before, he definitely doesn't now.

So with a heavy heart, I've decided to completely trash putting boxer FanFiction to the test.

No doubt Calum will be ecstatic to hear this. He'll probably ask questions too, but I don't want anyone else knowing that I upchucked the entirety of my lunch onto Meredith's notorious boxer, so I don't plan on disclosing this information to my best friend.

The sound of the heavy locker room door squeaking open and closed breaks me from my internal monologue, and I bury my face deeper into my knees as another rosy flare of embarrassment heats my cheeks at the thought of facing anyone who may have witnessed my accident.

"Winifred!"

The boxer's irritated voice drifts through the air, and I reflexively hug my knees tighter.

Oh, what I'd do for Harry Potter's invisibility cloak right now.

"Winifred!"

He calls again much closer this time, and the sound of soft padding feet coming in my direction tells me that I've been found.

"Why the fuck-"

"Look, I'm really sorry!" I interrupt him, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes as if it would spare me the embarrassment. "I didn't mean to puke on you, and I swear you never have to see my face ever again. I'd even buy you new shoes, but I just spent like $200 to dye my best friend's hair blonde so I can't really afford-"

A breathy chuckle cuts me off and I yank my hands away from my face to see what's so funny about my apology.

Luke towers over me, eyes crinkled with laughter as he shakes his head. The soiled pair of shoes have been ditched, leaving him in black crew socks, and I notice my bubblegum pink water bottle hanging by his side, loosely hooked by one of his long fingers. A glaze of sweat still coats his skin from our race, only adding to his beauty as he bites back a laugh.

I crane my neck back to blink up at Luke, but he saves me the trouble and smoothly crouches down before me, resting his elbows on his knees, offering me a small smile.

"I'm not upset, kid." He states, setting my water bottle down beside me, making my mouth fall open momentarily.

"I-what-you're not?" I stutter, completely baffled by the boxer's abnormally chill demeanor. "I literally upchucked on you!" My cheeks burn pink again, as I dramatically gesture to his shoeless feet.

"Hey, it happens to the best of us." Luke simply shrugs, the unusually friendly smile still tugging at his lips, which starts to freak me out. "Plus, I've been puked on loads of times in the ring, so you're not special." He jokes, actually jokes, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from gasping.