Worth The Fight (Hard To Love Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

said was that Ethan was still young and training, that he would settle down, but he never did. I could overlook a lot of his shit if he had been on point with his training, but I swear that he didn’t know the difference between a round house and a hook. His usual method of helping was pointing to the punch bag and telling me to do what felt natural. Forgetting my wraps and then poorly taping my hands was the last straw. No matter the outcome of the fight, Ethan was gone. I need someone who will focus on me and not my name. Forgetting my wraps at my fight was the last straw. Even if I had won he was gone. I need someone whose focus is me, not my name.
    “Yeah, I'm sure that’s just what’s gonna happen. I give him a week before he runs away with his tail between his legs.” I get up from my chair and walk to the door. I'm just about to close the door behind me when I hear Coach shouting.
    “I mean it, Zeke. I refuse to find another fucking trainer for you. If you chase this one off then you’re on your own!” I laugh as I close the door. It’s not a case of if but when.
     
    ****
     
     
    I'm standing under the scalding hot water in my shower at home, letting the heat soak through my tense body. I hear my cell phone ring and for about three seconds I consider answering it, but the feeling of the water on my stiff shoulders is too pleasant for me to move. Since I haven’t been able to do any weights or spar I’ve been putting a lot of effort into cardio, and using muscles that I don’t usually need. I thought lifting weights gave me the most punishing workout, especially trying to bulk up for a fight, but running apparently can be just as painful.
    I move my head under the spray, and watch the water drain away. My mind is distracted by thoughts of meeting my new trainer tomorrow, finding out who Coach thinks is the perfect match for me. I hate the fact that I haven’t even met him yet and he’s the one with all the power. Some random guy gets to decide when I start fighting again. I think that part is what angers me more than anything. Someone who doesn’t know me gets to make the most important decision in my life. I look up and let the water pour over my face before shutting the shower off.
    I grab a towel from the rack next to the sink and wrap it around my waist. Walking to the sink unit, I use a hand towel to clear the steam from the fogged up mirror. I throw the towel into the dirty linen basket and look at my reflection. Thankfully all the bruising from the fight is gone. I didn’t think the one around my left eye was ever going to disappear, it was like a daily reminder of how badly I’d fucked up that day. I just keep thinking I was lucky there’s nothing permanent done, well nothing that’s completely life changing other than my hurt pride and my damaged wrist. Hopefully I’ll be able to convince this new guy that I'm ready to get going. I need to make sure I’m one hundred and ten percent ready for my rematch and that means training properly as soon as possible. I refuse to go down at the hands of Dwayne again, he will only get the best of me once.
    I rub my hand over my jaw and contemplate shaving but I like the stubble. I’ve no plans for the next few days that requires a clean look so fuck it. If this new guy doesn’t approve then he can go fuck himself. I laugh to myself. I’ve already painted a picture of this guy, building him up to be a bastard before I’ve even met him. Maybe I should give him a shot, see how good he actually is before judging him. I shake my head and walk into my bedroom, grabbing a pair of boxer shorts on the way past my dresser. Dropping the towel on the floor I throw the boxers on the bed before collapsing butt naked on the mattress, too tired to even attempt to put them on. I grab my cell from the nightstand and see a missed call from Asha. I told her to call me about getting together, but I'm really not in the mood for company tonight, especially hers. Don’t