Page 63 of The Fighter

“When did you know you liked men? Or do you like women also?” I asked him one evening as we sat on my balcony enjoying the warmer weather we’d been blessed with in March.

“Just men,” Tav said, crinkling the plastic of his water bottle. "I used apps for hookups and that’s it. I had to keep it all a secret. Coach would have lost his mind. He was homophobic as hell.”

Fuck that guy. I curled my fingers into the arm of my chair. “That must have been hard for you.”

He shrugged, and I was about to tell him off for not being honest. But then his shoulders slumped, and he rolled his head on the back of the chair to face me. His two-toned eyes glowed in the light of the setting sun. “It was. It was real hard.”

I found that because of his strict training, and then the way his life blew up when he was twenty, he wasn’t accustomed tofun. One day I walked out of my office in the afternoon to find him sitting on the couch with Nik, both of them in identical positions with their legs spread, elbows on their knees, game system controllers in their hands. Tav was shouting, and Nik’s lips were curled into an evil grin. The TV screen showed avatars running around building structures and gathering guns. At one point, a blue figure did a silly little jig. Tav howled in mock pain and threw himself back on the couch, hands clutched to his face.

Nik smacked Tav’s stomach with the back of his hand. “You’ll get it next time, kid.”

Tav narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re making fun of me.”

“‘Course I’m not.”

“I’ll practice. You just wait. I’ll be better than you in no time.” Tav leaned forward, determination etched on his face as he started a new game.

Nik watched him for a minute. His gaze drifted to me, and he gave me a small smile before focusing back on the game.

I shifted to the back of the couch and sifted my fingers through Tav’s hair. “I didn’t know I had a PlayStation.”

“You don’t,” Nik said. He jerked his arms as his thumbs rapidly pressed a bunch of buttons. “I brought it from my place.”

Tav, for the first time since I met him, barely acknowledged my existence or touch. He leaned into my fingers for just a moment before his body lurched forward out of my reach, and he shouted, “I need help, Nik! I’ve been ambushed!”

“Help yourself!” Nik yelled back.

They were literally sitting a foot apart on the couch. The decibel level of their voices seemed incredibly unnecessary.

But I didn’t care, not about the yelling or Tav’s divided attention. He was animated, talking, laughing, and was havingfun. He was coming out of his shell, showing a personality that was endearing and charming.

Later that night, as he settled between my legs, before he drew me into his mouth, I gripped his hair and forced him to look at me. His eyes were shadowed in the dark. “I like getting to see you like that,” I said. “Having fun. Laughing. I like this side of your personality.”

His big hands curled around my thighs, and he nuzzled into my groin. “I like this side of me too,” he said softly. “I didn’t remember this part of myself. Or maybe this is a part of me I didn’t realize I had.” He shifted slightly, so a streak of moonlight slashed across his brow, highlighting his eyes. “It’s because I feel safe here. Not just in your place, but withyou.”

I didn’t know what to say, because my throat felt clogged. A weird burning heated the back of my eyes. I carded my fingers through his hair and let his head fall back onto my thigh. When he tugged the tip of my cock between his lips and softly sucked, I closed my eyes and wondered why karma decided to reward me with someone as perfect as Tav.

By day seven, we were both going stir-crazy. I only left the apartment when going into the office was absolutely necessary. Tav didn’t leave at all. I couldn’t be sure Devlin wasn’t watching me, and he had spies everywhere. Tav was instantly recognizable, and there was no disguise that I felt could hide him adequately to ensure his safety.

Every day, he walked on the treadmill. Toward the end of the seven days, he had begun to jog. I pretended not to notice. The morning of the seventh day, I heard him hitting the heavy bag, his punches battering the leather in a constant rhythm.Sometimes he grunted, and when he emerged sweaty, chest heaving, he didn’t even look apologetic.

As he retreated to the bedroom to shower, I made him a fruit smoothie with the vanilla protein powder he liked and carried it to the bathroom. He stood with his back to the fogged-up mirror wearing a towel around his waist and a foamy toothbrush in his mouth. His hair dripped down his neck and hung in uneven hanks on his forehead. He shook it out of his eyes as he spun, spit into the sink, and turned on the faucet to rinse his toothbrush. He turned back around to take the smoothie from me, a soft smile on his face. “Thanks, Con.” He downed nearly half of it in one gulp, which seemed gross to me after he just brushed his teeth, but then that was Tav.

This wasn’t the first time I noticed that he never looked in the mirror. When he showered, he would wrap a towel around his waist and walk out. When he brushed his teeth, he looked at me or the sink, or like today, he faced the opposite direction. The mirror was always foggy, never wiped for him to be able to look himself in the eyes. At first it was just an observation, but now it bothered the hell out of me.

I reached out and ruffled the hair on his forehead. “You need a haircut.”

He shook his head like a dog. Water droplets hit my arms. “I can just buzz it.”

“I can cut it.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You want to cut my hair?”

“I used to cut Ben and Devlin’s all the time. Sometimes I still trim my own.”

He smiled. “What can’t you do?”

I laughed as I went to the cabinet and pulled down the kit with my scissors and trimmer. “Lots of things.”