She lifted a shoulder as indifferently as possible. “I don’t know three, four times maybe.”

Drew was on her feet at once. “I knew it!” She punched her fist into her hand, smiling. “We’re going to that fight tonight.”

Charlee’s mouth fell open just as her heart rate took off. She knew she shouldn’t have said anything. Before she could protest, Drew was already talking fast as she paced back and forth as she always did when she was trying to convince Charlee of something, just like she had back home when she convinced her to move out to California with her. This was not good.

“If for no other reason, we’ll do this so I can prove my point.” Drew lifted her palm up in the air when Charlee began to respond: another telltale sign that she wouldn’t be backing down. “This guy has a thing for you. Maybe it’s just an ego thing. Guys like him are not used to girls not showing any interest. Charlee, you go overboard doing just that when you’re nervous, and, obviously, Hector makes you very nervous.” She stopped and smiled. “Besides, this could be fun. Imagine all the other hot boxers we could meet tonight? Not to mention an exclusive party. What else are we gonna do tonight? Sit around drinking wine coolers and talk about the kind of guys we wish we could meet?” Drew danced in place now. “We can’t stay long anyway. We have Long Beach in the morning. We’ll just go for a little while.”

This was true. They both volunteered for the Special Olympics, and tomorrow morning there was a marathon in Long Beach. They had to be there bright and early to help set up. Charlee couldn’t come up with a good enough argument fast enough, and quite honestly it did sound more fun than staying home on a Friday night—again. But the thought of facing Hector so soon terrified her. She was hoping he’d cool off over the weekend. She did the only thing she could and gave Drew her best pleading look.

“Charlee, he’s fighting tonight, and Walter said he was part owner of the gym too. You really think he’s going to have time to hang out with anyone from the chess team?” Drew gave her that evil grin she wore so well. “No offendamundo, but he probably just invited you guys to be nice. I’m sure he won’t be spending too much time around any of you.” She reached out her hand to Charlee and tugged. “Let’s go. We got a party to get ready for.”

With a groan, Charlee stood to her feet. Why did she have to have such a persuasive best friend? If it weren’t for the sudden visual she was having of seeing Hector up close and shirtless in the ring like she’d seen in all the images she Googled-stalked of him, she’d certainly fight this tooth and nail. That and the curiosity of seeing exactly what the tattoo on his chest was about, won out. She could only pray now this, too, didn’t turn into a disaster like yesterday.

Chapter 8

Hector sat in the corner of the ring in between rounds, breathing heavily when they walked in. Charlee had said she wasn’t coming to the fight tonight. Turned down the invitation flat—she had other plans. “Better plans” is probably what she really wanted to say. So for that reason alone, Hector hadn’t expected her to show up, and then after what happened yesterday, he knew there was no way she’d be coming. But seeing Walter and some of the other guys from the chess team arrive together, minus Charlee, somehow still managed to further Hector’s already irritable mood.

He didn’t even understand why her snub bothered him so damn much. Sam thought what she’d done was hilarious. And the fact that Hector had taken it so personally had him laughing louder than Hector had ever heard the old man laugh. Hector didn’t think it was funny at all, but the more he argued the more Sam laughed.

Sam said Hector was ripe for the target, that it was his own fault for not doing going there prepared. She probably saw the lack of significant effort Hector put into the actually study of chess. Hector was too laid back about the whole thing, and Sam said it emanated off him. A serious player would see that right away. When he was finally done laughing, Sam had once again reminded Hector how seriously these players take the game and told him he better learn to respect that.

If it had been Sam in that tournament, he said he would've gone over the game himself that night, working through all the variations until he was sure his play was accurate. Hector hadn’t bothered to until last night. Even then, he still couldn’t figure out how she’d come up with such a clever way to completely blindside him.

Sam also told Hector to get used to it. He was in a different league now. The old man was just too damn pleased that Charlee had done this to Hector. This, of course, only pissed Hector off even further. Get used it? Like hell he would. It was one thing if he thought this had only been some sort of hazing: Charlee’s way of welcoming him into the team with a ribbing. But there was more to it. He’d seen it from that very first day. She’d been nice enough and even smiled at him just the same as before she’d known he was a contender.

Unless she was a total genius, what she’d done must’ve taken her hours to memorize—to perfect. But why? The more he thought about it, the more it pissed him off. What the f**k was her problem anyway?

Then he remembered how close he’d come to kissing her, how badly he’d wanted to, and how quickly his anger had dissipated the moment he’d gotten close enough to smell the sweet scent of her lip gloss on those soft pink lips and the subtle sweet scent of her hair. He’d instantly gone from fuming to fighting the urge to kiss her.