Kissing on Third, page 3
part #6 of Belltown Six Pack Series
The man disappeared into the crowd, and Levi was left to look around the room.
The area was bigger than he thought, and next to the far wall a boxing ring had been set up. Dozens of people crowded around it, drinks in hand. Rap music played, competing with the conversation. He walked to the drink table and paid for a drink.
Ratty couches and oversized chairs lined the walls, and a few people had settled into them. But mostly everyone was gathered around the ring. Levi found a place by the wall, where he could lean against it and take in the entire room at the same time. He was surprised to see that not all those in the crowd were millennials. There were quite a few gray hairs. Maybe grandparents of the boxers? Levi had no idea.
He smiled to himself when he caught sight of Patrick gesturing wildly as he spoke to some other guy—maybe they were arguing about stats or the chances of the boxers.
Then a guy hopped up onto the ring, and Levi recognized him from the pub.
“Hey everyone!” he said into the cordless microphone. “Welcome to the match!”
Everyone yelled and cheered.
“Tonight we’re excited to host our returning champion, Star!”
More yells and a few whistles. Undoubtedly from Patrick.
“And our very own Fin is here tonight, ready to take on the champ!”
The cheers were definitely more subdued, but the enthusiasm still reverberated throughout the room.
It was kind of nice to have the attention up on the boxing ring. Levi had a few glances tossed his way, but no one approached him.
“And now . . . we’d like to introduce Star!” the announcer said.
Everyone cheered as a young woman came out of a door behind the ring. She hopped up onto the ring and slipped out of a blue robe. Her face was painted in a rainbow of colors, and black outlined one of her eyes in the shape of a star. Her hair was short, spikey, and multicolor with shades of blond and blue. She must have smeared glitter on her shoulders and arms, because they sparkled in the light.
Star strutted around the ring, blowing kisses to the people calling out to her. She was built like an ox, and Levi wondered if they had some sort of weight limit, because from his point of view, Fin was going to go out in the first round again. As Star turned to face the other side of the ring, Levi caught a view of her profile. She’d definitely had her nose broken more than once. He winced. This woman was no lightweight.
“And now . . .” the announcer said. “Let’s give a big welcome to the woman who’s come to challenge our defending champion. Fin!”
The crowd cheered as Finley came out of the back door.
She stepped into the ring wearing a crimson robe, the red color complementing her olive skin. Her wavy, black hair was twisted into a long braid, answering his question of how she boxed with such long hair. She shrugged out of her robe.
Levi swallowed.
Maybe she wasn’t built like Star, but Finley was plenty strong. The glitter on her arms and chest and stomach accented her lean muscles. She wasn’t lacking any curves either, and Levi found her looking rather sexy in her red athletic spandex shorts and a sports bra. So . . . the waitressing outfit had covered up quite a bit.
Levi finished off his drink, then straightened from the wall. Maybe he would move a little closer to the ring to get a better view.
CHAPTER FOUR
Finley rotated her neck and shook out her arms as the crowd outside the ring cheered their welcome. The cheers were a boost, but she knew Star was the favorite. Regardless, Finley was ready, and she had a good feeling tonight. She’d spent the last twenty minutes doing yoga stretches, and she was as limber as she was going to get.
She scanned the crowd, nodding at a couple of familiar faces. She didn’t have much of a following, but there were a few regulars who came and cheered her on.
As Mark listed her fighting accolades, Finley looked toward the back of the room, where a tall guy wearing a leather jacket was leaning against the wall, drink in hand. It took her only a half second to realize that he was Levi Cox.
And he was staring right at her. She cut her gaze away and tried to focus on what Mark was saying as he reviewed the rules for the crowd. As if against her will, Finley looked at Levi again. He was still watching her. If Finley weren’t nervous enough about fighting Star before, now with Levi Cox in the room, Finley’s pulse skyrocketed.
She exhaled slowly, stretched her neck again, shook out her arms. She had to focus. Not think about who might or might not be watching the fight.
Mark announced her fighting accolades, which were minimal, but Mark was somehow able to make them seem larger than they really were. Finley raised one of her boxing gloves in acknowledgment as people clapped.
Next, he listed Star’s accolades, which were impressive.
The crowd was definitely favoring Star, but Fin had expected that, even in the basement of her own place of work.
The ref stepped forward and reviewed the rules to Finley and Star.
Finley barely paid attention. She knew the rules inside and out, but she should still be listening. Levi Cox had moved away from the wall and was walking toward the ring.
Breathe. In. Out. She rotated her shoulders and jogged in place. Just because Levi Cox had left the pub earlier and was now back to watch the fight, that meant nothing. Nothing personal. Maybe he liked boxing. And he would have come whether or not they’d talked.
“Do you both understand the rules?” the ref asked.
Both Finley and Star nodded their agreement. Finley refocused her gaze on Star, not blinking, not looking away. Star narrowed her blue eyes and stared back.
The ref stepped out of the middle, and Mark rang the huge cow bell he reserved for such purposes.
Finley stepped to the right the same time Star moved left. One of Star’s signature moves was to strike first, and to strike fast. But Finley was ready. She ducked, then lunged forward to cuff Star in the side.
“Umph,” Star said, but she didn’t seem surprised or bothered. She swung again.
Finley again ducked. She could probably dodge Star’s swings all night, but that was no way to win.
The crowd was shouting, or cheering—it was hard to tell. Finley moved back a step, bringing both boxing gloves in front of her face. This time she wouldn’t duck, because then she could be in position to counter-swing.
Star’s next swing came from the other side, and Finley blocked it, then drove her glove into the side of Star’s face.
The impact was hard enough that Star reeled back. Finley knew she’d surprised Star, but Finley couldn’t relax for even a second. She lunged forward and swung again. This time Star’s head snapped to the side, and Finley knew that contact with her nose had been made.
Blood seeped from Star’s nose, and the cow bell clanged.
Round one was over, and Star stalked to her corner to have her trainer stop the bleeding. Finley moved to her corner and tugged off a glove to use a towel over her face. She didn’t have a trainer to do the honors. She’d barely been hit, but that luck wouldn’t last long. Finley knew Star would be more than ready in round two.
The cow bell clanged again, and round two started.
Again, Star swung first. Finley ducked.
By round three, Finley had been hit in the jaw once, and the torso multiple times. Her torso and shoulders ached. She knew there was jaw pain, but her adrenaline ran too high to slow her down.
Round four started off more sluggish than the previous ones, and Finley swung first after circling for nearly thirty seconds. Star’s focus was different this round, more feral. Finley swallowed down the smallest bit of triumph, knowing that she’d surprised the other boxer.
Star swung, and instead of ducking, Finley stepped into the swing and delivered another uppercut to Star’s jaw. Star grunted but didn’t lose her footing. She swung high, catching Finley’s lip, then right on top of that, Star caught Finley in the side with a hard blow.
Finley went down, gasping for air. Her vision went blurry, and she tried to roll onto her side to stand. The crowd was counting down, but Finley still couldn’t catch her breath.
The ref was counting down, and then the cow bell rang, and everyone cheered.
Finley had lost.
She closed her eyes, tasting blood in her mouth.
Someone grabbed her shoulder and said something, but the sounds were all muted.
Finley dragged her eyes open, then groaned as she used her gloves to push herself up into a sitting position.
Star reached out a hand and pulled her to her feet.
Then Star released her and circled the ring, accepting all the cheers and praises.
Finley staggered back to her corner and tore off her gloves. She grabbed her water bottle and guzzled it down, wincing as it touched her mouth. She hoped she wouldn’t need stitches. With the crowd still cheering for Star, Finley made her way to the back door, her mind reeling both with pain and disappointment. Five hundred bucks lost. Just like that.
She couldn’t figure out how she’d gotten the breath knocked out of her. She’d endured harder hits. Finley made her way to the bathroom and surveyed the damage beneath the fluorescent light. Her lip was bleeding, but she wouldn’t need stiches. Her shoulder had a pretty good bruise already starting. Looking down at her torso, she saw more marks. She’d be tender for a few days, but nothing she hadn’t been through before.
Mostly she was disappointed in herself.
“You did good, kid,” Mark said.
Finley turned see him leaning against the doorframe.
“Four rounds against Star,” he said. “Major improvement.” His voice bounced off the walls, hurting her head.
“Thanks,” she said, her voice dull. But she couldn’t muster any more enthusiasm.
“Do you need anything?” Mark asked.
“I’m good,” she said. Mark was a decent boss, but she didn’t like it when he got in her personal space.
He scratched at one of his sideburns. “Do you need me to drive you home?”
“No, I’m walking.” She lived only a couple of blocks away. The night air would clear her head. Then she’d get to her apartment, soak in an ice bath, take some aspirin, and go to bed.
“Okay, then,” Mark said. “Did you know that Levi Cox bet seventy dollars on you?”
Finley didn’t move, didn’t respond.
“He gave the cashier a hundred-dollar bill. I think a seventy-dollar bet is your record,” Mark said with a chuckle. “Nice job, kid.”
She shrugged, then turned on the faucet, hoping that would give Mark the hint to leave. She splashed water on her face, and when she next looked up, he was gone.
The sounds of celebrating still came from the other room, then Star’s voice sounded on the microphone. Well, it was her night. Time for Finley to go home.
She pulled on some yoga pants and a T-shirt, then grabbed her duffle bag. She headed out the back door and up the stairs that led to the parking lot behind the pub.
The parking lot was full, but would empty out soon enough. As she passed beneath a street lamp, she saw a motion from the corner of her eye. Her heart skipped a beat, and she looked over to see a guy leaning against an old Bronco. He was silhouetted in the shadows, but his height reminded her of Levi Cox.
“Hey,” he said in a quiet voice, hands in his pockets, not moving from his position.
Finley stopped. Definitely Levi Cox. She exhaled. “Hey.”
“You, uh, okay?” he asked.
She could feel his eyes on her, and it sent warm shivers across her skin. Or maybe it was because of the night’s breeze brushing past her.
“Yeah,” she said. “Just a little bruised.”
He nodded.
“That your Bronco?”
He straightened then, stepped away from the truck, then looked at it as if he were trying to decide. “Yeah. I bought it in college. Haven’t been able to get rid of her.”
“Her?” Finley walked toward the Bronco, keeping her gaze on the truck while feeling Levi’s gaze on her.
“She’s temperamental,” he said in a low voice.
“So you dubbed it a she.”
His smile was faint, but it was there.
And Finley’s heart thumped in response. She kept walking until she reached the front of the Bronco. Whatever year it was, it was in immaculate shape. “I thought you’d have a sports car, like a Porsche at the very least.”
“I don’t think I could fit into a Porsche.”
For some reason, his comment made her face warm. She glanced over at him. “What about a Ferrari?”
His eyes were dark, unreadable. “My former teammate has one, but it’s not really my style.”
Finley felt her lips twitch, but she held back a smile. “Still . . . you’re a pro baseball player.” She ran her hand over the hood and walked toward the side he stood on. “You know, throwing around hundred-dollar bills like they’re quarters.”
He took a step closer, hands still in his pockets. “When I was a kid, my foster dad brought home a hundred-dollar bill one night. He showed it to me and my brother. Told us that if we worked hard enough then one day we could have our own hundred-dollar bill. It seemed impossible at the time, but when I got my first paycheck from the league, I cashed it into all hundred-dollar bills.”
Finley leaned against the Bronco and folded her arms. “And you started dropping them on the tables at pubs?”
“I’d rather pay cash when I’m out in public,” he said, leaning against the truck as well. “Too many stories of stolen credit cards.”
Finley looked over at him, raising her brows. They were several feet apart, but she was aware of everything about him. The angle of his jaw, the depths of his eyes, the broad set of his shoulders, and his long, lean build.
He met her gaze, not shying away from looking at her. Which only made her feel warm again.
“And it’s easier to make a quick getaway from all those women’s phone numbers coming your way?” she said.
“You caught me.”
Finley smiled, then blew a hiss through her teeth. She touched her swollen bottom lip. “Don’t make me smile.”
He moved closer and leaned down. “You need to get some ice on that,” he said. “A black tea bag helps with swelling too.”
She lowered her hand. “A tea bag? Never heard of that.” He hadn’t moved away, and she caught the scent of leather and something like spice and pine.
“You steep it for a few minutes,” he said, “then put the tea bag on the swollen area.”
“Sounds like you have some experience,” she said.
“The wrong kind of experience.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll try it.” She pushed away from the Bronco because Levi was standing rather close, and she was feeling too warm. She should really be soaking in that ice bath about now. “I need to go. The aspirin’s calling my name. Thanks for coming to the match, uh, Levi, or Steal, or whatever your name is.”
The edge of his mouth lifted. “Levi’s fine.”
“Well, then, Levi, have a good night.” She stepped back, then back again. Turning, she started across the parking lot.
“You’re walking?” he asked.
He hadn’t spoken very loudly, but with no one else around, his words were clear. She looked over her shoulder. “I don’t live far.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the Bronco,” he said. “I could give you a ride, if you’re not opposed to a car that’s not a Porsche.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “I’m sure your truck is perfectly fine. I . . . don’t really know you, Levi Cox, even though you blew a hundred bucks on my boxing match tonight. So I’m walking home, like I already planned.”
He walked toward her, and she could only watch him. What was he doing?
When he neared, he stopped. “How about we compromise? I walk you home. Then I come back here and drive my Bronco to my place.”
“I’m seriously fine,” she said. “I really don’t expect—”
“Look, it’s the middle of the night,” he cut in. “This neighborhood isn’t exactly Mayberry.”
“I am a boxer,” she said.
He smiled. Really smiled. More than just Finley’s face went hot.
“I know,” he said, still smiling. “But I’d still like to walk you home. If that’s all right with you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Yep. There was still fire in Finley’s eyes, Levi decided, even though she’d lost her match tonight. He’d expected to see more bruising on her face, but only her lip was swollen. She moved a bit carefully, and he imagined she was pretty sore. Her yoga pants and blue T-shirt covered up that red number she’d worn in the boxing ring, and he should probably stop thinking about what she may or may not be wearing under her clothing.
He fully expected her to turn him down flat when he offered to walk her home. But to his surprise, she said, “Okay then. Come on. I’m about ready to drop dead anyway, so I probably wouldn’t be able to fight off any bad guys.”
“I have a perfectly nice Bronco about twenty steps away,” Levi said.
She started walking toward the street. So . . . no Bronco.
Levi followed, catching up easily. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to analyze why he was walking this woman home in the middle of the night after her boxing match. He’d only met her a couple of hours ago, and he knew almost nothing about her. If Rabbit knew what Levi was doing, he’d catch all kinds of crap. Or Rhett.
But Levi was curious.
“Finley’s a unique name,” he said, glancing over at her. She walked with the slightest limp. “Are you named after someone?” Here he went with the questions. They sort of tumbled out.
“Yeah, well, my dad used to play college football in Tennessee,” she said, her gaze connecting with his, then shifting away. “Named me after the stadium. Lucky me.”
“Is that where you’re from?” he asked.
She cut him a glance. “I was born in Tennessee, but I didn’t live there long. After my mom left, my dad moved us to his parents’ in Minnesota. Been here ever since.”
“I guess that’s one reason to live in Minnesota. Family. Because the weather sure isn’t much of a draw.”
