“That sounds unpleasant,” I noted and the residual grin from his laughter turned into a smile.

“Suffice it to say, I don’t know you too well and I like you a whole lot more than I liked them,” he replied.

And one could say I liked that.

But I shouldn’t like that. I shouldn’t anything that.

Even so, I needed to make a response so I did it mumbling, “That’s good.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Bad neighbors suck.”

Considering our first meeting he had to rescue me from my infuriated, foul-mouthed ex-husband, I decided not to respond to that.

Mickey didn’t stick with that subject either.

Instead, he prompted, “Still got no idea why you’re here, Amelia.” His blue eyes twinkled and my stomach fluttered. “But if you’re a female fighter, that’d shock the shit out of me.”

“Oh, right,” I mumbled then cleared my throat and carried on, “I’m selling a few things and thought I’d donate the proceeds to the junior boxing league.”

Another smile from Mickey. “Fantastic.”

“House sale. Josie’s gonna help,” Jake put in and Mickey looked to him then to me.

“Got some shit I could put in. Tell me when you’re havin’ it. I’ll lug it over.”

This was not conducive to me steering clear of Mickey Donovan, but if the young boxers needed decent equipment, the more was definitely the merrier. So at least for that, I’d have to suck it up.

“Of course. I’ll make sure you know,” I replied.

“And you need help, I’m across the way,” he offered.

That wasn’t going to happen.

“Thanks,” I said, swiftly looked to Jake, stuck out my hand and continued, “It was nice meeting you. I’ll call your wife soon.”

He took my hand, squeezed it and returned, “Same meetin’ you. Sure I’ll see you again soon.”

“Yes.” I nodded and forced my attention back to Mickey. “Good to see you again, Mickey.”

Another grin. “You too, babe.”

I dipped my chin, averted my eyes, murmured, “Good-bye, gentlemen,” and walked to the door.

This got me a, “Later,” from Jake and a, “’Bye, darlin’,” from Mickey.

As I swiftly made my way through the gym, I sent a hesitant smile to the boxer still training, doing this now not punching a bag as he had been when I walked in, but jumping rope.

He smiled back distractedly but I got the impression he did it only because we met eyes.

I kept moving through the gym as his attention drifted away and something about this stung.

He was not unattractive, though he wasn’t gorgeous like Mickey and Jake. I couldn’t fathom his exact age but I guessed both Mickey and Jake were around mine, and although the rope-jumping boxer looked younger, he was nowhere near his twenties so he was not that far off.

What he was was not interested in me.

I was a woman in a boxing gym. I had breasts. I had a booty. I had long hair and it was thick and shiny.