In His Corner Page 2

  Still, just the thought of it being his living rather than a casual hobby was enough for me to defend, “It’s not for fun. It’s his career. And he’s damn good at it.”

  Gina snapped her fingers, swirling her head from side-to-side as she gushed, “Okay then. Look at you sticking up for your new man. I see you, girl.”

  This time, I really blushed with embarrassment, peeking back at the card while telling her, “He’s not my man. I just... met him yesterday.”

  But even that wasn’t enough to deter her from what she thought this was as she continued, “Just met him yesterday and he’s still thinking about you enough to send you flowers. This famous, busy, ass-kicking man is still thinking about boring ass Bella Stevenson. No offense.”

  I rolled my eyes, tucking the card back into the holder. “Just because you say no offense doesn’t mean I’m not offended. And besides, how do you know he doesn’t do this for all the women journalists he comes across?”

  Maybe I was just trying to talk myself out of being flattered, or maybe I knew there was some truth to what Gina said about me being boring ass Bella which didn’t exactly align with The Prince being interested in me. Either way, my thoughts weren’t enough to change her mind when she replied, “There were thousands of articles about that fight; about him. And how many did he retweet with a personal message? One. And who wrote that one? You. Don’t go blocking your blessings, Bella.”

  She didn’t wait for a response, leaving me to think about it as she returned to her desk. And the second she was out of sight, I pulled the card to view the message one last time.

  “Thanks for seeing me for me,” I read out loud, trying to decode what seemed like much more than a single sentence. But I instantly became distracted when I first felt, then smelled, then saw the assistant editor for the site - and the finest man in the building - blow past my desk.

  I dropped the card near the flowers, smoothing my hands down my skinny jeans before following in his tracks to catch up with him. “Hey Chris! What’d you think of my article?”

  He didn’t stop walking, instead tossed over his shoulder, “Your article? What article?”

  I was already out of breath from keeping up with his pace when I explained, “My article about the fight. You know, the article that has everyone in a frenzy and website traffic booming.”

  It was a humble brag, but enough to at least get him to look at me, a look that made my heart skip a beat since… damn, he is handsome.

  Smooth, chocolate skin that extended to his baldhead, a full goatee that he always kept in perfect condition, and clothes sleek and fitted enough to show off the athletic frame under them; the athletic frame I had just recently become familiar with thanks to a late night in the office.

  Chris was the epitome of grown man fine, though Gina claimed he was overrated, that I was more turned on by his position at the site than his actual looks. But none of that seemed to matter when he took me in, doing a quick scan of my attire that was an intentional upgrade from the usual before finding my eyes to reply, “Oh, that. I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet. But I will.”

  I tried not to blush, balancing on my boots as I gushed, “Okay. Well, when you do, I’d love to hear your thoughts. You know, get some constructive criticism.”

  While I was originally coming to him about my article, it seemed as if he was interested in everything but, his eyes locked on my chest as he nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I got you.”

  But him being distracted by my looks only gave me another idea, an idea that had been sitting on the exact place he was looking since the evening we spent together on his desk.

  Well… mostly on his desk.

  Between the desk, his office chair, and the floor, we had covered quite a bit of ground around these parts. And it was clear he remembered it just as clearly as I did when he licked his lips and asked, “Anything else?”

  Just that simple motion was enough to have me stumbling over my words. “Uh... yeah. I guess I was wondering if you’d... be interested in, maybe, going out for drinks or something.”

  Shooting my shot was far from my usual lane, but it felt like the only way things between Chris and I would get anywhere beyond office sex, the only way he’d know I was even interested in anything beyond office sex. But just because I was asking didn’t mean I was going to receive, Chris releasing a heavy sigh before ushering me deeper into his office so that he could whisper, “Bella, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I mean, you know how people talk around here. We don’t need that kind of conversation following us while we’re both trying to build our careers, you know?”

  My first instinct was to answer no. I mean, I didn’t understand why co-workers going out for drinks was that big of a deal. And it definitely wasn’t a bigger deal than the possibility of getting caught having sex in his office which he didn’t seem to have a problem with. But since I didn’t want to look completely desperate, I did my best to play it off, forcing an awkward smile when I replied, “Oh. Right. I understand.”

  “But look, how about I swing by your place this weekend? We can do drinks there,” he offered, running a hand down my arm that made me shiver in a way that told me I couldn’t turn him down if I wanted to.

  So I didn’t, nodding as I agreed, “Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”

  Princeton

  “Man, why you movin’ so slow today? You got cement in your damn gloves or what?”

  It hadn’t even been forty-eight hours since my last bout and my pops was already in my ass about training. He claimed it was the rigorous - albeit, illegal by boxing regulations - schedule that got me to this point in my career which meant that same schedule was also what was going to keep me there. But I had a hard time believing that shit as I worked to catch my breath in between sets of punches on the speed bag while he continued to rant in my ear.

  “Your next opponent don’t give a fuck about a few nights ago. That mothafucka isn’t takin’ no damn breaks. And you say you wanna be the best? Shittttt, I can’t tell!”

  Since I couldn’t argue back without sounding like a bitch, I hopped up from my resting spot on the stool to go at the bag again, imagining it to be the mystery opponent my father would always use as motivation until a real one was named. But honestly, it didn’t matter who the real one was. My training didn’t change from person to person and neither did my will to do whatever it took to be the best whether my pops believed it or not.

  It seemed as if he never would believe me.

  I channeled his doubt into my last round on the speed bag, my hits landing even more fiercely than before as Pops groaned, “About time your ass showed up,” just as I was delivering a final blow. But once I bent over to catch my breath, the bag still swinging above my head, he said, “Gotdamnit, boy. All this training we do and you still ain’t in shape? What you gonna do in round twelve, huh? Where you gonna get your wind from if you can’t find it in here?”

  I was too exhausted to answer, so instead I just shook my head as he tossed a towel towards my face on his way out, not even bothering to say goodbye. But even if he was going to be rude about it, I was glad to see him go since his exit meant I was done for the day.

  Well… done for now.

  It wasn’t out of the norm for Sir Kingfield “The King” Lattimore to hit me up in the middle of the night for training with claims that I was being outworked by someone else. But I hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days, especially considering he had just kicked my ass for four hours straight. I also hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days because I had plans to make that included the woman of my most recent dreams.

  Bella Stevenson.

  When she walked into my dressing room after the fight, she was easy to spot because she seemed completely out of place; her casualwear of jeans and a blouse standing out like a sore thumb amongst the gaudy jewelry, furs, and other fight ensembles. But it seemed as if the simplicity of her look only enhanced her natural beauty, soft mocha skin with a glowing smile as
she tried to fight the obvious nerves of introducing herself to me.

  Still, she managed to keep it G, shaking it off to serve me complete professionalism, though her presence wasn’t nearly as annoying as the handful of reporters who had come before her. Or maybe her attractiveness made me biased. Either way, there wasn’t a single moment of our conversation that felt invasive, more like I was chopping it up with a familiar friend who saw well beyond the surface of the champion boxer who had just added another victory to his record.

  She saw me.

  And that was only further proven by the article she wrote, the article that I had read through more times than reasonable trying to understand how she was able to pull so much from our simple interaction.

  The flowers I had sent to her office were small scale compared to the type of appreciation I was really interested in showing her. But for now, I figured I’d start off light by inviting her to dinner, knowing the last thing I wanted to do was scare her off before I got a chance to get to know her. So after getting rid of my gloves and drying the sweat I had worked up, I snagged my phone from my duffle bag, scrolling through my contacts to find her information that I saved immediately after she gave it to me just in case I ruined her card even more than she already had.

  It only took a few rings for her to pick up, her voice laced with a peppy yet professional undertone as she said, “Bella Stevenson speaking.”

  “Yo, that article was dope. But I don’t know how I feel about you softening me up like that,” I teased, thinking back to the mentions of my “super sweet” interactions with my pint-sized fans. Truth be told, talking to and taking pictures with the kids were a highlight for me, the only time I was really able to let my tough guy guard down in public.

  But since my father claimed that persona was an integral part of my career, I kept up the act, though I was reminded that Bella didn’t exactly see me that way when she replied, “I only write the truth, Princeton. It’s called journalistic integrity. And thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome,” I told her, peeking around the empty gym as I suddenly felt… nervous.

  Fuck am I nervous for?

  Sure, I didn’t do a ton of actual dating, just a quick fuck here and there to keep me active which was made easy by the women who prided themselves on being my company. And my career kept me far too busy for the women my father put in the category of distractions anyway. But it definitely wasn’t my first time asking a woman out which meant it didn’t make any sense for me to feel so hesitant. And just when I was getting ready to push past that block, Bella asked, “Princeton? You still there?” Making me feel even more ridiculous.

  I shook my head as I rushed out, “Yeah, yeah. My bad. I was just thinking we should uh… do dinner or somethin’. Me and you.”

  The laugh she let out in response almost had me releasing one of my own until she asked, “Me and you? You’re joking, right?”

  “Not at all. I wanna take you out, Bella Stevenson. Can I do that?” I asked, making myself as clear as possible while also trying not to be offended by her taking me for a joke.

  But her regretful sigh alone had my fist flexing when she answered, “Uh… look. I’m flattered to say the least, but I don’t really think that’s a good idea.”

  “What?” I snapped, groaning out a sigh of my own before lowering my voice to ask, “I mean, why not?”

  The last thing I wanted to do was intimidate her, even over the phone. But she didn’t seem at all influenced by my reaction when she explained, “Well… no offense, but I’ve seen how you operate and that’s not exactly something I’m interested in. And besides, I’m kinda… seeing someone right now.”

  “The way I operate? What’s that supposed to mean?” I thought to myself while processing the other half of her excuse to respond, “I don’t know about your dude, but I know I’d hate to hear my woman say she’s only kinda seeing me.”

  “It’s just... early. Really early,” she replied in a way that only made me want to press more.

  “So early yet so real that you’re turning me down? Yeah aight, Bella. I hear you. Must be a very special guy,” I said with enough sarcasm that probably made me sound immature.

  But I was surprised to hear her release another one of those sighs before she rushed out, “I’d like to think so. But I don’t know. I mean, it’s new. So we’ll see.”

  Whether she meant to say it out loud or not, her back and forth was enough for me to try her one more time. “So... lunch then? Since you’re suddenly unsure about him?”

  Fuck.

  Another sigh.

  This time it was paired with a direct, “Can’t. I’m on deadline. Got a multi-part article about that whole solar eclipse phenomenon due in less than twenty hours.”

  While she may have been using work as yet another excuse for turning me down, it only gave me an idea of how I could get her to come see me. And I actually felt hopeful by the time I replied, “Ahh so that’s how I can get your attention. Through an assignment?”

  I imagined her holding the phone a little closer to her ear when she said, “Depends on what kind of assignment you’re talking about.”

  Her interest alone had me excited until I realized I really didn’t have an answer to her indirect question, wasn’t expecting to be put on the spot about it. And even though I knew I’d be catching an ear full about it from my father later, I offered, “How about an exclusive? I mean, you done already read right through my ass, so I trust you to get it right in long form too.”

  “You’re serious?” she asked, all of that let-him-down-easy energy replaced by genuine excitement.

  With that, I couldn’t help but smile when I answered, “So serious. Come through the gym Friday afternoon. Can you do that?”

  I could hear her pen scribbling down my instructions as she said, “I can definitely do that. Say 1’o clock?”

  “I’ll be here. Sweaty and all,” I replied, reminding her of what she was getting herself into even if I wasn’t giving her an opportunity to back out.

  But it was clear Bella Stevenson was full of surprises when she said, “Strangely enough, I’m looking forward to that part the most. See you Friday, Princeton.”

  &

  “Damn, P. You really hittin’ today,” the assistant trainer, Tony, announced as he held the punching bag steady while I delivered a combination of punches that would’ve completely destroyed my opponent’s core if it were real. And even though my intensity might’ve been surprising to him, I knew my good ass mood warranted a newfound strength, a newfound energy, as it got closer to the time Bella was supposed to come through the gym for an exclusive interview which was really just a disguise for me to get to know her better since I had already committed her looks to memory.

  Her pretty ass skin, pretty ass face in general, with just enough titties and ass to tell she was a woman from far away. But there was a tone to her body - a strength - I found incredibly attractive. And that paired with what seemed to be a chill demeanor was more than plenty to intrigue me.

  As if I had thought her up, I watched Tony give a nod towards the entrance as he said, “You got company, P.”

  I knocked the sweat from my eyes before peeking over my shoulder to find Bella as she made her way into gym, looking completely in awe as she ran her fingertips against the canvas of the boxing ring. And once she rounded the side closest to us, I saw she was wearing a cropped shirt that made her boobs look a size bigger than I remembered and jeans that fit snug against her hips.

  “Damn. My memory must be a lil’ shaky,” I thought to myself as I dropped my stance to go meet her by the ring. And once she saw me approaching, she gave the smile I remembered from fight night when she asked, “So this is the Prince’s Lair, huh?”

  “Really, Bella? You’re that corny?” I asked with a chuckle as I caught the towel Tony tossed my way before he offered Bella a nod.

  She gave him a polite one in return before turning back to me to answer, �
�As corny as they come, and you will deal.”

  I couldn’t help but smile as Tony made quick work of helping me out of my gloves and then my hand wraps while I asked Bella, “How you comin’ into my gym demanding shit though?”

  She peeked up to meet my eyes, giving a smirk when she answered, “Because I’m pretty confident you won’t knock me out, unlike anybody else who might try you.”

  “You’re right. Wouldn’t wanna ruin that pretty face of yours,” I replied with a wink, a response that came without thinking twice.

  But maybe I should’ve thought twice once I saw Bella’s face scrunch as she repeated, “My pretty face? How about, “I don’t hit women” or even, “I don’t want an assault charge”?”

  Tony only laughed, shaking his head as I quickly explained, “Damn, Bella. That too. Your pretty face was just the first thing to come to mind.”

  I was grateful when her expression went back to pleasant and relaxed, though she still teased me with a quiet, “Mmhmm,” just as Tony tapped me on the shoulder to let me know I was good to go before excusing himself. And as he made his way out towards the offices, I led Bella and I over to the stools I usually sat on to eat lunch - not the most comfortable spot, but a seat nonetheless - so that we could begin the interview.

  Bella held her phone in the air to let me know she was recording before tossing it onto the seat next to her as if it being out of my view made it any less invasive. But I rolled with it, grabbing the lunch package my nutritionist had left for me as she wasted no time digging in with questions.

  “So, Princeton. If you had to pick one word to describe yourself, what would it be?”

  Without skipping a beat, I answered, “Champion.” Grabbing the container of powdered-protein and pouring it into my bottle of water before giving it a shake to mix it together.

  Bella watched intently as she waited for me to finish, surely not wanting to ruin any audio soundbites with the loud swooshing of the water. But once I took a quick sip to make sure it tasted alright, she pressed, “Champion? Explain.”