Worth The Fight (Hard To Love Book 1) Read online

  I take a deep breath and stand up, grabbing my workout shorts and vest from the bag at my feet, and get dressed as quickly as possible. I’ve been in here too long and I don’t want to start our working relationship with him thinking I don’t take it seriously. This is the job I’ve been waiting my life for and have moved to another country for so I can’t do something to fuck it up. I throw my clothes in the locker, pick up my water bottle and I stretch my back before walking out of the changing room.

  I need to be strong. I need to be professional. I need to be nothing but his coach.

  That thought is wiped from my brain along with the breath in my lungs when I see Zeke on the running machine. He’s removed his wraps like I told him to but he’s also removed his t-shirt, giving me the perfect view of what he’d been hiding before. My body is toned and I'm proud of the way I look and it takes a lot of hard work, but I swear he makes me look like I sit on my arse all day. I don’t think there’s an ounce of fat on him and he looks like he's been carved from marble by the Gods. I shake my head and laugh. Could I sound any more like a teenage girl? I tear my eyes away from Zeke’s glistening skin, pretending that I don’t want to lick the sweat from his abs. I need to talk to him, I’m pretty sure I won’t be as attracted to him when I listen to him speak. From the little interaction we’ve had I can tell he's a dick and that’s not a quality I find attractive. Once I get my head on board, I'm pretty sure my body will follow.

  “Glad to see you’re warming up, but I want to check out your hand.” I call out to him and wave him over to me but he just glares at me and continues to run. Yeah, definitely a dick. I throw my water bottle onto the stack of towels that rests on the weight bench and cross my arms over my chest, determined to wait him out. I need to assert some authority so he knows I'm not going to give into him like his last coach did. I'm here to work and I know how to do my job. The sooner he realizes this the better, he won’t be chasing me off like the long list of people before me.

  He must finally understand that I'm not going to give into him because he reaches out to slow the treadmill. His eyes never leave mine and I know we’re entered into a pissing contest now and one that neither of us wants to lose. He stops the machine completely, jumps off and walks over to stand in front of me, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his skin on his way. I try to focus on the fact that I must have been in the locker room longer than I thought for him to build up a sweat like that and not the fact that he smells better than anyone else I’ve ever met. There is nothing sexier than a guy who’s worked up a sweat, and with Zeke, his own smell and whatever aftershave he's wearing is not helping the situation in my shorts. Yes, that’s right. This annoying, headstrong guy is causing my incredibly underused dick to harden in my shorts, my extremely thin workout shorts that wouldn’t hide anything under them. Not good, not good at all. I sit on the weight bench, putting some much needed distance between us to hide the bulge in my shorts, and hold out my hand to him.

  “Let me see your hand. I’ve read over your notes but tell me in your own words what happened.” I think we’re going to have another standoff because he doesn’t immediately move or acknowledge that I’ve spoken but I'm soon proven wrong as he walks over to me and holds out his injured hand.

  “It’s simple. I had a really shitty coach and he made a mistake. That mistake caused me my championship and almost my career.” I look up at him taking in the anger in his eyes. No wonder he has a problem with me being here, he was let down by the one person who should have his back at all times. I know the story, but it was only secondhand information. I wanted to hear it from Zeke, to get his account of the events and gauge his responses. It’s the best way to find out how he thinks, about how he sees what happened in the cage. Once I understand his mind I’ll be able to train him. I take his hand and knead my fingers into the back of it, feeling for any trauma that might still be present.

  “And your injury?” Again I’ve read the doctors report but I want him to tell me in his own words.

  “Three fractured bones caused by lack of wrist support. I hit the other guy and his face didn’t come off as bad as my hand. Shame really. I probably would have gotten away without too much damage to my hand, but I then punched the fucker that caused this and that was the source of the real damage.” I continue to press over his hand, looking for areas of tenderness but there aren’t any. I think it’s healed well and quicker than the ones I’d seen in my previous experience.

  “Does it cause you any pain now? Like when you hold or grab anything?” I feel proud that I’m managing to keep this completely professional, especially when I’m eye level with his worship worthy abs.

  “No pain. I just want to get back to fighting, I have a fight coming up and I need to be better than fit for it. You, apparently, are the only one who can clear me for that.” I can hear the venom in his tone and I know that it must be difficult for a guy like him to have someone else in control of his career, especially after the last coach he had.

  I grab the wraps he left sitting next to his towel and get him ready to train. He watches me for a few seconds in silence but I know he's dying to talk. I can see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he tries to stay quiet. Soon enough he breaks his silence.

  “Are we on?” I look up at him again and nod. I'm thankful that I'm looking at him when a smile finally crosses his face. That simple act completely changes him, his eyes sparkle and I notice a dimple in his right cheek. Note to self, don’t make the hot guy smile.

  “I will let you spar with me after I work out your fitness level. I'm not going to let you go full throttle until I know it’s completely healed, and I can’t judge that after ten minutes and a couple of prods. I understand your frustration but damaging it further isn’t going to help anyone. I'm here to do a job, one that I'm bloody good at, and that job is to make you a champion. Let me do what I came here to do and we will get on just fine.” If I'm not mistaken a look of respect crosses his features but it disappears so quickly that I can’t be sure it was ever there.

  “Let’s get this party started then.” That’s all he says before he walks over to the ring, leans down and enters between the ropes. I watch him bounce on his feet and I'm impressed. For a guy that I’ve been assured hasn’t fought for the last few months, he hasn’t lost any of his grace. That’s usually the first thing to go when fighters get hurt, they start to look a bit wobbly when they get back into the ring, like a toddler trying to take their first steps. Not Zeke though, he looks like he hasn’t missed a day of training, he’s light on his feet and fully in control. It’s one of the things that I admired about his fighting when I had studied him on the flight over. He moves likes he's a featherweight fighter, but he's built like a heavyweight. That makes for an explosive combination in the ring and I can’t wait to see what he can actually do.

  I pick up the focus pads and put them on after climbing into the ring. Zeke’s eyes are trained on me as I slowly circle him.

  “I want you to hit the pads when I present them. The only rule is that you’re not allowed to use your right hand. Feet, legs or your left hand … all allowed, but if you use your right hand at all, I will tie it behind your back.” Zeke raises his eyebrows at me and I can’t help the flush that spreads through my body as I imagine Zeke tied up. That is the last thing I should be thinking about now, I'm risking a hard on of epic proportions with no way to hide it. To keep Zeke’s attention away from my crotch, I quickly raise a pad up so my arm is out above my shoulder, within seconds Zeke spins and hits it with his foot. His range of motion is impressive and leads to more thoughts I shouldn’t be having.

  After making him chase pads until he's sweating I pick up a kick pad to find out how much power he really has.

  “I want you to kick this as hard as you can.” His eyes light up as he looks at the pad. His chest is heaving up and down, sweat dripping down his hard muscles to the waistband of his shorts. I try not to focus on his body but it’s like showing a kid a
n ice cream and telling them they can’t have it. I open my stance as I stand behind the mat, making sure I'm fully braced and protected. If I'm not steady I might end up on my arse. I focus my eyes back to Zeke’s body as he moves around in front of me, trying to keep my thoughts on his movements, working out how he's going to attack. I can see the buildup and I know it’s coming but Eddie appears behind Zeke and shouts my name at the wrong moment. I take my eye off Zeke for a fraction of a second and that’s all it takes. I feel his foot connect with the soft material that’s meant to protect me and I feel my feet leave the ground already aware that my landing isn’t going to be graceful. I land on my back and air is pushed from my chest, leaving me lying on the floor gasping for breath.

  “Shit!” I hear Zeke shouting before the pad is pulled from my arms and he leans over me on his knees. If I wasn’t in so much pain right now I would take the time to enjoy this moment and the picturesque view of a sexy man above me. Okay apparently I'm not as hurt as I thought.

  “Are you okay? I'm sorry, I thought you were ready.” I try to laugh but I'm still struggling to fill my lungs with oxygen.

  “Did you get the reg number of the lorry that just hit me?” Zeke’s deep laughter flows over me and the hairs on my body stand on end. It’s official, I need to make sure I never make Zeke smile or laugh. The affects on me are too much and I will never be able to hide the attraction I can feel building.

  “I think there’s something wrong with you, I don’t understand what you’re saying.” This time I manage to laugh. When I first arrived I noticed that people had a problem understanding some of the things I said, and most of the time now I remember to use words they understand.

  “Don’t worry about it, it takes more than a kick to scramble my brain.” I get another smile from Zeke before he stands up and bends over to help me up. I grab his offered hand and he pulls me up until I'm standing. There is a current flowing from his skin to mine, and when our eyes connect I can’t seem to look away. I realize that our hands are still connected and we pull apart quickly when Eddie shouts at me, asking if I'm okay. I nod my head and smile at him before walking over to see what he wants. I focus on him and try not to think about the heat that has spread all over my body since touching Zeke’s hand.

  Chapter Four

  Zeke

  I groan as the hot water from the shower beats against my aching muscles. When I first started training with Bryce this morning, I wasn’t convinced that it was going to do anything for me, but even I have to admit that my body is telling me that I’ve been worked hard. I lean my head to the side and feel a very satisfying crack. I’ve missed this, the deep down ache you feel after you’ve worked your body so hard. It’s like a drug for me and when I couldn’t have it I wasn’t the nicest person to be around.

  I look up when I hear the shower next to me start and see Bryce running his hands through his hair, and while he's distracted, I take the chance to look him over. His body is as built as some of the guys that I fight against, his muscles tight and well defined. His abs look like they’ve been cut from steel and I feel myself envious of his amazing eight pack. I’ve tried since I started fighting to get that elusive eight pack, but I’ve never managed it. I try to convince myself that’s why I'm still looking at his body, I'm admiring his dedication to fitness and that it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I can’t look away from him. My dick is unfortunately enjoying what it sees and I can feel myself start to harden. I turn away quickly in embarrassment even though there are half walls that separate the showers to hide me. I think about Asha, about her lush body, what it feels like when it’s wrapped around my dick and that fantastic mouth that would bring any man to his knees. With those thoughts running through my head I reach down and rub along my now very obvious hard on, but I feel better now that I can tell myself that it’s all for Asha. I need to make myself believe this, if I can’t then I will have to think about why my body is reacting to the very naked man next to me. I would need to think about why when he's near me my mind goes fuzzy and I find myself thinking about things I shouldn’t. Some of those thoughts being how amazing his lips look when he's focusing on my posture, or how his muscles flex when he moves. No I won’t think about that, I’ll think about Asha. Try to convince myself she’s the sole reason I'm so hard right now.

  “How’s your hand?” I look down to my right hand that’s stroking my cock and let go quickly. I glance over at Bryce to see if he noticed what I was doing but he's washing his hair, so there is no way he could have seen anything. The timing of the question was just coincidental and actually very innocent, it’s just my mind that’s making it something it wasn’t.

  “Yeah, it feels great.” I bite my lip as I answer him, enjoying my private joke.

  “That’s good. I think tomorrow we can increase your sparring time. I know you were pissed when I said you couldn’t use that hand, but I swear there’s a reason to my madness. You’ll see soon enough.” He puts his head under the water to rinse the shampoo from his hair and bubbles run down his chest. I swear to God I try not to let my eyes follow them, but fail miserably. My mind drifts back to when he told me I wasn’t allowed to use my hand, I thought he was insane. I would’ve told him exactly that, but I was intrigued with the blush that had covered his cheeks when he had talked about tying my hands behind my back. When those words came out his mouth, visions had flashed through my head of Bryce tying me down, and when I raised my eyebrow at Bryce it almost looked like he’d had similar thoughts.

  “Yeah, I have to admit I thought you might have lost your mind a little there, but if I'm honest, I don’t think my hand could have done much.” He laughs at my comment, and I can’t help but stare at his lips, wondering if they are as soft as they look. I grab my body wash from the shelf in the shower and pour a good amount into my hands before scrubbing my body. I’ve already washed my body, but I need a distraction from the direction my mind is going.

  “I swear I know what I'm doing, I’ve done this before. We need to condition your body without putting too much strain on your hand straight away. So if you can learn to not use it as your dominant hand, then it will get the rest it needs. A few weeks of that and I promise you will be back to fighting like normal. You did well though, I didn’t have to tie you up at all.” The same flush as before covers his face and I can’t help but wish I could hear what was going through his head. There’s something about those words that cause a reaction from him, and I want to know what it is. He turns away from me and I let my eyes drift, taking in the dips and grooves of his toned back. Shit. I will not stare at his body again, and I certainly won’t get hard while I do it. I turn the water temperature down, trying to get control over my raging hormones. I haven’t felt like this since I was a teenager, and that never really went well. Deciding I need to get laid tonight, I come up with a plan. I don’t know if it’s a good plan but I run with it, maybe the distraction will help whatever is going on here.

  “So, what’re your plans for tonight?” I open one eye and look over to Bryce to make sure he knows I'm talking to him. He turns off the water and grabs a towel from the hook before wrapping it around his waist. I follow his lead, wrapping my own towel around me before walking over to my locker.

  “I was planning on going home and making a work out plan for you. Now I’ve seen you I can plan better.” Is he kidding me? After six hours in the gym he’s going to go home to work some more. I’m a great believer in hard work, you don’t get to the level I’m at without having dedication and working more hours than the average person, but everyone needs some down time.

  “You’re going home to work? Seriously, you don’t have a hot woman you can hook up with for the night? You deserve a reward, you did a good job today.” I can’t help the laughter in my voice as I speak. He looks over to me and gives me the finger which makes me laugh harder. At least he knows I'm trying to fuck with him, I promised Coach I would give him a chance so that’s what I'm doing. Actually if I'm truthful, Bryce s
eems like a good guy. I had an instant dislike for him but that was purely because of my experience with Ethan. He’d been an idiot and that has made me wary about anyone else. Bryce is completely different though. He seems to know what he's talking about, the stuff he had me doing earlier worked my muscles with the minimum of effort and it’s like I can already feel myself getting stronger. He's not trying to keep me from training, he's adapting it to get me back into the cage quicker.

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but I don’t have anyone here to occupy me. I’ve only been here for a few weeks. You’re the first person I’ve really spoken to other than Eddie. Lucky me, eh?” I laugh at his joke, happy that we are chatting like this, but take note of his words. I never really thought about him not knowing anyone, I never thought to ask how long he's been here. When I left home I spent so much time on my own, just sitting watching people walking past me on the street, not seeing me as they talked to friends and family. I spent most of my wishing I had someone to talk to, to share my time with. I hate it when I think someone else is lonely, especially when it’s someone who seems as nice as Bryce.

  “What, Mr. Perfect Coach doesn’t have people falling at his feet to be friends?” I turn from my locker just in time to see his towel fall to the floor as he pulls his boxer shorts up. I turn away, but not before I look down and see his naked ass. His fucking perfectly round, naked ass. I feel my dick twitch against my towel and I quickly grab my clothes. The sooner I'm dressed, the sooner I can get out of here. Being around him like this is doing something weird to my body, something I don’t want to explore.

  “Fuck you, Zeke. Just because the world wants to kiss your arse, doesn’t mean that we all have them bowing at our feet.” His words would come off harsh if he didn’t have a smirk on his face.