Bad Boy's Honor: An MMA Bad Boy Romance (11 page)

“Good news for me, or good news for you?” I asked. “I’ve noticed it’s rarely both.”

“Well you should buy a lottery ticket, because today’s one of those rare days. I’m cutting down on the number of these group classes you need to teach.”

“You are? That is good news.”  

“Yeah, I’ve seen you over here struggling to teach those ladies how to fight when all they want to do is wrestle with you in bed. It can’t be much fun.”

I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but it didn’t matter. The classes were consuming far too much of my time. Each class was an hour long, plus the half an hour or so I had to spend getting rid of the women at the end. Then there was planning and setup time. That added a good few hours a week. That was all time I could be using to train for the big fight.

“What’s the catch?” I asked. “You’re making money from these classes. Why would you give that up?”  

“Because I care about my best fighter,” Duke replied. There was definitely a catch. I could sense it coming. “And I’ve found something else for you to do in your spare time.”

There it is.

“What spare time? I hardly sat around on my ass all day.”

“The time you’ll have instead of teaching the group classes.”

“Okay, fine, what is it you want me to do?”

I was genuinely curious at this point. Once word had gotten around, the classes had filled up quickly. We had a waiting list and Duke had already jacked up the price once. He was making bank off these lessons. Why would he be so quick to give that up?

“I want you to give one-on-one training.”

“So instead of teaching people how to fight, you want me to teach people how to fight? What a great deal.”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Riker. It doesn’t suit you. Trust me, you’re going to love this. Just think how much more satisfying it will be to impart all your knowledge onto one person and really make them into a fighter.”

It sounded horrible, but slightly less horrible than teaching a group of women desperate to get me into bed. At least this way there might only be one woman at time begging me to wrestle them to the ground.

“I guess I don’t have much choice,” I admitted. Whoever he or she was, she must be loaded if she could pay enough to convince Duke to turn away twenty people per class. I still wouldn’t bother learning her name though.

“Excellent. She’ll be here bright and early tomorrow morning for her next lesson.”

“You’ve already signed someone up?”

“Yep. Don’t worry, you two will get on just fine. Not too well, mind you. She is my daughter after all.”

“Nora?” I exclaimed loudly. “You want me to teach Nora how to fight?”  

“Yes, is that so hard to believe? She should be able to defend herself, and I don’t know anyone who I’d rather teach her.”

There was no way in hell I could spend hours alone with Nora. She hadn’t said a word to me since she’d started coming to the gym, and whenever she did look at me it was with a glare that could freeze fire.

“She won’t go for it,” I said. “She hates me.”

Duke rolled his eyes and sighed in a highly exaggerated fashion. “You two are as bad as each other. Look, she’s cool with it, and I know you’re going to be cool with it, because Nora will at least try to learn, which is more than I can say about most of the women taking your class.”

“Can’t she just join one of the group classes?”

Duke shook his head. “She won’t go for that. She’s after really intensive training. Look, I’ll level with you. I had to offer her the chance to train with you because she was about to stop hanging around here. Truth be told, I’ve gotten used to having her around the place.”

Duke didn’t usually wear his heart on his sleeve. He might just be saying that to make me agree to his little plan, but I didn’t think so. Duke and Nora had spent a lot of time together, and the old man had definitely warmed to her.  

I still struggled to imagine him as a father. I was the closest thing he had to a son, but the two of us could barely keep it civil most of the time.  

“I’ll do it for a week,” I agreed. “She won’t want to carry on for longer than that anyway.”

“She wants two months’ worth of training,” Duke insisted. “That takes her up to when she starts her new job.”

I groaned loudly and tensed my muscles. It wasn’t a show to intimidate Duke, it just helped get the blood pumping.  

“I’ll teach her for a month,” I bargained. “That’s all I’m doing.”

Duke sighed. “She’ll be disappointed, but fine, if a month is the best you can do, we’ll live with that.”

Duke turned and walked off, but not before I caught a slight grin spread across his face. I had the distinct feeling I’d been played again.  

Personal training with Nora. Was that really better than teaching group classes? I could make it fun. If Nora wanted to be pushed to the limit, I could certainly do that. She wouldn’t last a week, let alone a month.

-*-

“Left. Right. Left. Left.”  

Nora slammed her tiny fists into the mats on my hands in response to my shouts.  

“Right. Right. Right.”  

She was exhausted now. Each punch was becoming noticeably weaker, but we’d been training solidly for nearly an hour. I’d made it my mission to break her down, but it had been a hell of a lot tougher than expected.  

How much further should I push her? I could already tell Nora wouldn’t ask to stop. She’d keep going until she collapsed or I called an end to it. Whichever came first.

“Right,” I said again.  

Nora swung her right arm, but she missed the pad on my hand and drove her fist into my chest instead. I caught her as she stumbled forward, and told her to take a breather.

Other than me barking instructions at her, we’d barely spoken the entire session. This would be a long month, but an uncomfortable silence was better than me getting too close to the boss’ daughter.

I’d expected her to be one of those women who didn’t like to work up a sweat, even when working out, but to her credit, she’d gone at it from the first second and now she was drenched from head to toe.

Her wet hair clung to her sticky face, cheeks red from exhaustion, as she drank greedily from her water bottle as she tried to replace some of the fluids she’d lost through sweat.  

I picked up the equipment from the floor, and started shoving it into the nearby storage cupboards, when Nora spoke to me for the first time.  

“I don’t know how you manage it,” she said in one quick outpouring of breath.  

“You’ll get fitter after a few more sessions,” I replied, without looking up at her. I didn’t want her to start being nice now. That would just make this even harder.

“I don’t mean that. It’s the pain. My hands hurt just from punching those pads. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to take punch after punch to the face and body.”

“You get used to that as well,” I replied.

“How?”

I shrugged. I turned around and saw her staring at me intently. Women didn’t usually want to hear all the gory details, but if anyone could handle it, the daughter of Duke Nott could. Besides, she must have seen her fair share of violence working in that bar.

“Okay, maybe you don’t get used to it,” I admitted. “But it’s a job.”

“There must be easier ways to earn a living. Ways that don’t involve risking your life every time you step into the ring.”  

“No one has died,” I replied. “Recently. Anyway, it’s not that easy for someone like me to find a normal job.”

“Why?” Nora asked, before answering her own question. “Oh, the conviction.”  

“Yeah. It’s weird, but some employers get a bit funny about employing an attempted murderer.”  

“I know.” Nora caught my raised eyebrow and general look of disbelief. “My mother was a defense attorney. In her spare time, she used to run a charity that helped convicts get back on their feet.”

“She must have been a busy lady.”  

“Yeah, she was,” Nora said. “Keeping people out of jail and helping them when they got out, all while building up a nice little nest egg for me to spend once she’d died.”

I cringed and felt uneasy with guilt. It was an emotion I knew only too well.

“Sorry about that,” I said softly. “I shouldn’t have said that about you.”  

Nora smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m only playing with you. I really don’t care.”

I nodded, relieved to have got the apology over and done with. I didn’t apologize often, and it wasn’t something I wanted to make a habit of.  

Nora stood up but stumbled slightly again, either from a head rush or just because her legs were too exhausted to support her weight.  

“You should eat something,” I said. “Protein is good after a workout. Carbs too.”  

“Isn’t that for building muscle mass?” Nora asked.

“Yes, but a bit of muscle wouldn’t do you any harm.”

“Okay, as long as I don’t start looking like you. I don’t think it would suit me. No offense.”

“None taken.”  

Nora grabbed her bag and headed for the exit. I hadn’t even realized I’d been watching her leave until she turned and caught me looking at her.  

“Did you do it?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“You know, the attempted murder.”

“I pleaded guilty,” I replied. That much Duke had probably already told her. If not, she’d be able to find out easily enough.

“That’s not really answering the question.”

“If I answered, would you believe me?”  

She paused for a moment and then shook her head. “I wouldn’t know if you were lying or telling the truth.”

“Then there’s not much point in me answering, is there?”

“I guess not.” She smiled. “Goodnight. See you tomorrow.”  

I smiled and watched her as she walked out the door. Her tight sweat pants provided a lovely view of her ass and thighs, which made me hungry for something other than a good meal.

Lots of the women who came in here had great bodies. It was so par for the course, that I didn’t even look twice at women solely based on their body shape. I was more of a face man, I suppose, although I didn’t know if I had a type.  

Nora got a reaction from me one way or another. She was cute, which I usually found off-putting. I didn’t want a woman who needed looking after and protecting. Nora looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fly, but as I discovered today, she could throw a punch when she wanted to.  

Up until she started tiring, her punches had landed with enough force that I had told her to do some push ups for a few minutes just to give my hands a rest.  

And now we were talking to each other. And I was thinking about her after the training session had ended. This was bad news. I had a fight to prepare for.

I just needed to get through this month and then we could go our separate ways.  

How difficult it be?

“Keep going,” Riker yelled. “I want ten more out of you.”  

“Oh my God,” I yelled as I pushed up from the floor. “Can you even do this many push ups?”  

“I could do that many with you sitting on top of me,” Riker replied. “Come on. If you talked less you might have more energy for the work out.”

“If I didn’t talk,” I said, pushing up once again, “I’d go insane.”  

I squeezed out the last few push ups, and then did one more after Riker told me I could stop, just to show him he hadn’t beaten me.

After two weeks of training sessions with Riker, I was in the best shape of my life. In fact, I was in the best shape of quite a few people’s lives.  

The lethargy that I’d carried with me throughout most of college had disappeared, and I’d become one of those annoying people who looked forward to working out. Mom would have been appalled.  

Riker pushed me harder each time, and it wasn’t unusual for me to feel sick at the end of each session. That meant it had been a good workout. Apparently.

The sessions were a lot of fun, and not just just because I enjoyed learning to fight. Riker was a great teacher and, much to my surprise, a decent person. I’d been so willing to think the worst of him after his shitty comment about my inheritance—which was nowhere near as substantial as he appeared to think—that I’d lumped him in with all the other musclebound meatheads I’d known over the years.  

People covered in tattoos, and with muscles visible from space, typically only cared about number one. They would rather look at themselves in the mirror than listen to you talk about your day. And God, they were selfish as hell in bed. There was a reason I went for intellectual men, and not just the best looking ones.