Plus the sight of her in her sports bra, glistening with sweat, with her biceps and traps flexing with every swing...it’s sexy as fuck, and it’s exactly what I’ll be thinking of when I take her upstairs. I planned to workout too, but fuck that now.

Absolutely nothing changed after we fucked yesterday. I’m not looking at sex like it’s something transformative, and I love Shelby’s acceptance that I don’t want to talk about it. Although I see her holding back. She wants me to talk about it, and before we even did it, she tried suggesting that I talk to someone professionally. I already told her that doing that would put shit on my record that I wasn’t comfortable with. It was bad enough my parents screwed me up so bad I didn’t let anyone touch me until a month ago. I wasn’t going to let them ruin my career and chain me to a desk for the rest of my service too.

"What would you think of me fighting at the gym?" she asks.

I can't hide my reaction as my face contorts into a scowl. "What are you talking about?"

She smiles. "I think Vic was suggesting it last night. He said he has girls fight sometimes."

"No," I answer, sending her a harsh glare.

She holds up her gloves in confusion. "So, I get to watch you get beat up, but I can't do it? That's not fair. Also, I'm sorry if I sounded like I was asking permission."

What is this girl doing to me? That smart mouth of hers is going to get her in trouble. "Watch that mouth," I mutter, and I notice the devious look in her eye before she takes another swing, this time a bit harder than before. After a moment of silence, I ask, "Do you want to?"

She takes a second to think about it before nodding her head. "I think I do."

For a moment I let myself consider it. There aren't a lot of girls fighting, especially in the lot fights, and Maggie is the only one in her weight class, but Maggie fights with something stronger than fire. She fights dirty, and she doesn't give a fuck. The thought turns my stomach, picturing Shelby up there, taking hit after hit, and I clench my jaw just thinking about it.

"The answer is still no," I say before tossing the pads on the bench and picking up my gloves to start taking swings of my own. She's got me worked up now.

"Again, I'm not asking permission."

I start throwing swings at the bag. One, two, three, four.

"Are you ignoring me now?" Her chest is still heaving from the exertion, but she's not stepping back.

"No," I answer. One, two, three, four.

"This is how you solve all your problems? Don't face them, just punch something?" I knew she'd eventually start pushing me to open up. It's not enough that we have a good time together and the sex is good, but she's trying to fix me, and it's getting a little more intense every day.