Fight for You

Chapter One

Troy

“Great session today,” I told my client Jason as he grabbed his gear bag. “Your form is really coming along. You’ll be fight-ready in no time.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder, and a proud smile crossed his sweat-soaked face. “Thanks, Mac.” With a wave, he headed for the exit.

Jason was my last client for the day, so I grabbed my own bag and started to leave as well, when my attention was snagged by someone standing at the counter in the entryway. I’d never seen the man before; I certainly would have remembered.

The man was short and slim, and didn’t look like the gym’s typical clientele. He did, however, look like just my type, so I sauntered my nosey ass right up to the counter to see what the little cutie was doing.

I reached his side in the middle of his conversation with Caleb, the gym manager. “...So, I would like to sign up for training as soon as possible.”

Caleb flipped through the schedule in front of him. “You’re welcome to sign up for the open gym hours, but all of our trainers are pretty booked up. It’s a busy time of year, but I can probably squeeze you in next month-”

“I…I can’t wait that long,” Cutie replied sadly. He must have been on an upcoming fight ticket, though if that were the case, I was unsure why he didn’t have a trainer already. “Is there another gym closeby?”

There was no way in hell I was going to let him go so soon. I was invested in his story, even though I hadn’t even heard it. I was also invested in the sight of his cute little ass in his gym shorts. Was that a professional thought? No. Did that keep me from having and enjoying it? Also no.

“I’ll take him,” I interjected, and the young man nearly jumped out of his skin. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed me approaching. Spatial awareness would be at the top of the list for our session. “Sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The young man’s eyes stayed wide as they landed on me, but the fear they held was replaced with intrigue as they scanned my body. At six foot four and two hundred fifty seven pounds, I was a lot to take in. Though I no longer competed in the super heavyweight division, I kept up my physique. I routinely lifted weights and sparred with my clients, keeping my muscles large and toned.

I took the opportunity to flex my pecs, and the man swallowed hard at the sight. I didn’t try to hide my smile.

“You sure, Mac?” Caleb asked, interrupting our moment. He sounded surprised, but there was a knowing gleam in his eye. I’d been friends with him for years, and he was well aware of my “type”. My problem was that my type never seemed interested in me once certain things came to light.

“I’m positive.” Although I was attracted to the man, I also wanted to help him. He sounded desperate to train, and I was more than happy to coach anyone with that much drive.

“Okay then.” Caleb gathered up some papers, which he handed to the man. “Avery, just fill these out and bring them back next time.”

“Thank you.” He took the stack and folded it into the bag at his hip. “And thank you so much for taking me on, Mr…?”

“My name’s Troy McAllister,” I replied, “But everyone calls me Mac.”

“Because he’s roughly the size of a truck,” Caleb added with a chuckle.

“I can see that.” Avery’s cheeks pinked, as if he didn’t mean to say the words out loud. Caleb chuckled again, and I patted Avery on the back, nearly knocking him over. Oops .

“Come on, I’ll show you around.”

I took him through the gym, showing him the punching bags, speed bags, and weight benches before taking him to the back corner. “You can put your bag by the wall.” He did as I asked, and then I pointed to a scale. “The first thing we need to do is get your height and weight.”

Avery nodded and stepped onto the base. I raised the height bar and lowered it onto his wavy platinum hair. “Okay, you’re right at five foot six, and…” I scooted the block back and forth until the weight balanced. “One hundred six pounds. That puts you in the straw weight category. Make sure not to miss any meals or you won’t qualify.”

“Oh, I don’t want to fight professionally,” Avery said, shaking his head like the idea terrified him. “Wait; you thought I could?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Maybe because a strong wind would snap me in half?”

His wide eyed expression made me chuckle. He was adorable. “Hey, anyone can box. Have you ever heard the saying, ‘It’s not about the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog’?” Avery nodded. “It’s true. In the off-season, our fighters will spar outside their weight class for practice. I’ve seen small guys take down opponents twice their size. It all comes down to training and determination.”

“Wow. That’s comforting to know, but I’m still not interested in a fighting career.”

“That’s okay,” I shrugged. “Boxing is still great exercise. It can improve your balance, strength, endurance, and overall health.”

Avery nodded, but none of those benefits seemed to interest him. “Honestly, I’m just needing to learn some self defense moves.”

Unfortunately, everything was beginning to make sense. “Who’s bothering you, Shortstack?” I wanted names and photos so I could teach them some manners…with my fists. Again, not a professional thought, but oh well.

“Just some guys at school.” As he answered, his cheeks pinked, though he had no reason to be embarrassed. It wasn’t his fault people were dicks. “I thought things would get better once I went to college, seeing as we’re adults, but apparently some people won’t grow up. Usually, they just call me names, which I can handle, but today was the first time they got physical. If things get worse than a few shoves, I need to know how to defend myself.”

Anger tore through me, along with a hefty case of guilt. “I didn’t mean to offend you when I called you Shortstack. I’ve never called anyone that before - it just sort of came out, but I didn’t mean any harm by it.”

“I know. I’ve learned to tell the difference.” Avery gave me a smirk which lit up his pretty blue eyes. “But if you get to call me Shortstack, I should get to call you Big Mac.”

I snorted as I shook my head. “You know, I was just starting to like you.” Though in reality, I loved the playful teasing, and even the silly name. “Okay, so if you’re not looking to fight professionally, let’s get right down to business on the basics. Follow me.”

I led Avery away from the scale to an empty corner of the gym. I wanted to focus all my attention on him without any distractions, and for him to feel at ease. “Before I show you any offensive moves, let’s work on your defense. Go ahead and drop into your defensive stance.”

Avery blinked at me, and I realized I needed to start from scratch with him. So I explained, “A defensive stance is very important. It’s your foundation of movement, strength, and protection. Here, I’ll show you; stand naturally.”

He relaxed his shoulders, appearing casual and comfortable. I placed my hands on his shoulder and gave a gentle push. Avery rocked back on his heels; I didn’t mean to knock him over, but sometimes I misjudged my own strength. Luckily, I was able to keep him upright by catching him with an arm around his middle.

He looked up at me and swallowed hard. A few silent moments passed between us before his cheeks pinked and he cleared his throat. “Guess that wasn't very defensive.”

“No worries; I'll show you. Are you right or left handed?”

“Right.”

“Okay, so put your right foot back and point your toe at a forty-five degree angle. There you go. Now bend your knees a little.” Once Avery was in position, I nudged his shoulder with the same pressure as before, but this time, he didn't budge.

“Wow,” he muttered with a blink.

“Pretty cool, right?” He nodded and I continued on with the lesson. “Now, put your fists up in front of you, with your left hand in the front. Bring them up a little so your face is protected.” I demonstrated, and he copied my stance. “Perfect.”

I stepped next to him. “I'm going to touch your back, okay?” Boxing was a physical sport, and the best way to teach someone was through touch and movement. But I didn't want to spook Avery; it sounded like he'd had bad experiences with bigger guys manhandling him. Something told me I needed to tread lightly with Avery.

At his nod, I settled my hands on his lower back. My fingers curled around his hips, and my thumbs overlapped on his spine. I could easily encircle his slim frame with my large hands.

“All of your power comes from your hips,” I explained while gently rotating his body to face forward. “When you throw a punch, turn like this and channel that strength up through your torso and into your hand. Try it out.”

As I twisted his body, Avery brought his right hand forward, punching the air. I tried to ignore how good it felt when his muscles bunched and rolled beneath my palms.

When I moved his hips quicker, Avery did the same with his fist. Eventually, I regrettably let him go, and he got the hang of the movement on his own.

“That's great,” I told Avery, stepping in front of him. “Now I want you to hit me.” His eyes widened as I raised my hands, offering them as targets.

“Shouldn't I be wearing gloves or something?”

If we were actually training, I would at least tape his hands, but he was interested in self defense, so I wanted him to experience the movements as he would actually use them. “I want you to feel our skin-on-skin contact.” I didn't realize how dirty my words sounded until Avery’s cheeks flushed, and then I was glad for them.

“Okay.” He let out a deep breath and copied the motions I showed him, lightly tapping his fist against my palm.

“That was good form, but hit me for real. Put all of your strength into it.”

Avery’s eyes bugged again. “Are you sure ?”

“I’m sure.” Every inch of my body had been pummeled over the years by some of the biggest and best fighters in the world. I wasn’t worried about an uncushioned strike to the hand.

He took a deep breath and swung as he pivoted his hips. His knuckles hit my palm with enough force that it made my skin sting. “Much better,” I told him with a smile. “Let me give you another tip; tilt your fist down a little when you hit. It will focus the strike into your first two knuckles and make your punch pack more of…well, a punch.” I was embarrassed of my dumb word choice until Avery chuckled, giving the most stunning smile I'd ever seen.

I was caught in a daze and unprepared when Avery struck me again. The tip worked; the sting was stronger, and he even hit a nerve that caused a tingling sensation to run down my forearm.

“Was that better?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

“That was perfect.”

I had him practice again and again, each time improving his form and strength. Next, I showed him how to jab and throw a hook, before we moved on to blocking.

As our lesson marched on, other trainers and clients left the gym one by one until only Avery and I remained. It wasn't a strange occurrence; I often stayed later than everyone else, and I had a key to lock up. Plus, I was selfishly thrilled to have some time alone with him.

But as much as I was enjoying our lesson, I felt it was time to bring it to an end soon; Avery was moving slower, and a layer of sweat glistened on his brow. But before I could suggest we end the session, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of beep, beep, boop…beep, beep, boop.

“Is that your phone?” I asked curiously, but Avery shook his head no. He lifted the hem of his shirt to reveal a small, square device attached to the waistband of his shorts. He pushed a button and the beeping stopped.

“I need to take a break.”

“Of course.” When I noticed how unsteady he was on his feet, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders to help support him as he walked to the far end of the room. Avery pressed his back against the wall and slid down until he sat on the floor.

His shaky hands unzipped his gym bag and lifted out a bag full of raisins. He dumped some into his mouth before offering the bag to me.

“Thanks, I'm starving,” I said instinctively as I poured the fruit into my palm; my big ass was always hungry. But it took only a moment to realize how rude I was being; the poor guy looked a mess and I was harfing down his food.

But to my surprise, it was Avery who apologized as he looked around the empty gym, “I'm sorry; I've kept you way past closing, haven't I?”

“Technically, I've kept you ,” I argued, “And I've enjoyed every minute of it.”

“So have I,” he answered with a tiny smile. I noticed that the color (even though he was naturally pale) was beginning to return to his cheeks. “But I'll grab my stuff so you can get out of here for dinner.”

Avery reached for his bag, but I stopped him with a hand on his. “Let's just sit here until you're feeling better. I don't want you driving away when you're sick.”

“I've been way worse,” he shrugged, which didn't calm my worries.

“Well, that's comforting,” I replied with an eye roll, getting a small chuckle in return. I hated to be nosy, but I wanted to know how to help him, so I asked, “What did the beeping mean?”

“I have Type 1 Diabetes. That was my glucose monitor going off; it lets me know when my blood sugar is too high or too low. As I'm sure you can tell, I'm not used to a lot of exercise, and I think my body freaked out a little.”

“I'm sorry; I pushed you too hard.”

“No way,” he insisted with a head shake. “This is what I need. I'll get used to the exertion and get better.”

“Okay, but before tomorrow's lesson, I want you to meet me for dinner so I know you've got food on your stomach.” It was a bold move, but I was a bold guy. I wanted to spend more time with Avery, while also making sure his body was getting what it needed.

His eyes widened with shock and his cheeks pinked, overtaking any lingering paleness. But just as quickly, his expression fell. “I can't.”

Shit. “I'm sorry.” It felt like I was saying the words an awful lot. “Was I too pushy?”

“No, no,” he said, firmly shaking his head again. “I mean I can't tomorrow; I have evening classes. But…” Avery chewed his lip while looking hopeful. “Would Wednesday be okay?”

“Of course. Let's plan on meeting at five. There's a restaurant around the corner called Paleo Place that's really good. I think this gym alone keeps them in business; their food is perfect for a fighter's diet.”

“I eat paleo foods a lot,” he replied with a smile. “They help regulate my blood sugar.”

“Perfect; it's a date, then.”

Avery’s eyes bugged again. “A date? Like a date on the schedule or a date date?” The color drained from his face once more, making me question whether I'd read him completely wrong. “Because I've got to be honest with you; I don't date much. Or…at all, actually. I'm garbage at it, and not just because I’m nerdy and awkward. And I really haven’t tried for a while. Not since…”

His words trailed off, suggesting a story he wasn't ready to tell. While I was dying to know, I didn't want to push him. He'd already had one medical issue, I didn't want him to add a heart attack into the mix. I hoped the issue was mainly nerves. That I could work with.

“Yes, a date date,” I nodded. “And there's no need to be nervous; I just want to feed you and get to know you better. I know I look big and tough, but I'm very chill. You can relax and be yourself with me; you're safe.” And I loved awkward, nerdy guys, but I kept that to myself, since Avery seemed to think those were negative qualities.

His eyes skittered away, but a smile took his lips. “Thank you.”

“So…Wednesday at five?” Avery answered with a nod. “Perfect.” I stood up and offered him my hand. When he took it, I pulled him to his feet, but he was lighter than I predicted. He lunged forward and our chests bumped into one another. I steadied him with my arms around his slim waist, and his eyes locked onto mine.

I could clearly see his nervousness, but he didn't pull away. Because hiding in his gaze was also intrigue and desire. I wondered if he was as drawn to me as I was to him; if he felt the spark and longing that I did. It wasn't just a wish, but a need to get closer to this little beauty.

I don't know how long we stood there, gazing at one another while I held him close, wishing I could read his thoughts, but it wasn't long enough. Finally, Avery cleared his throat and took a step back, and I released him.

“Thanks for everything you showed me tonight. I'll keep practicing until I come back on Wednesday.”

“You're welcome, and that sounds great. The more you practice the movement, the more natural it will become.” Avery nodded and grabbed his bag from the floor as I offered to walk him out.

I turned off the lights and locked the gym door behind us before walking Avery to his car. If I wasn't mistaken, he seemed hesitant to climb in and leave; he opened the driver's door, but he only placed one foot inside.

I wanted to tell him how much I enjoyed our time together, and how excited I was for our date; that I wanted to learn everything about him. I wanted to promise that I'd keep an eye on his health and help him any way I could. But I wasn't a wordsmith, and I also didn't want to alarm him. So, I instead told him, “See you Wednesday, Shortstack.”

But it was enough to draw a beautiful smile to his lips. “Bye, Big Mac.”

I wore a goofy grin all the way to my truck.