Pascal is hot?”
That stunned Luke, jolting him out of his reverie mid-punch. He barely grazed the bag. “What?”
Hugh watched him evenly, tilting his chin up. “You gonna lose your nerve?”
That was way below the belt, but it set the fire under Luke’s skin again.
Was that all everyone thought? That at the first sight of a nice chest or a great pair of forearms or a pretty smile, he’d get distracted? Weren’t they past those ideas these days?”
He stepped closer for a rapid series of jabs, then kicked until Hugh stumbled back.
“Good,” Hugh approved. “I shouldn’t have to bait you to get your attention, but Pascal might just say that to you, too. Keep your mind on the fight.”
Luke grunted as he threw his elbow into the pad. “I am .”
“I don’t think you are. Where’s your head, kid?”
“Here.” Luke kneed it, then kicked it once more. A few hundred pounds of force were hard to resist even for someone with as much muscle as Hugh had. Hugh stumbled back again but raised the pads, silently challenging Luke to take him down.
Fine. No holds barred.
Luke leapt to it, slamming his fists into the pads over and over. He twisted, spun, and drove his elbow back. Next, he landed a backward kick, and then another spin and a roundhouse kick combined with several swift jabs.
Hugh stumbled back, losing his balance and dropping to his knees. “Good!” He was beaming, looking more pleased than he had in days.
Luke was still raring to go, almost disappointed he’d yielded so fast. His fists were tightly curled, his heart thumping in his ears. If this were a fight, he’d go for a hold—but it wasn’t.
“Much better.”
Hugh was back on his feet now, the pads down by his side as he triumphantly grinned.
Oh, shit. He’d just given Hugh another weapon to motivate him. Hugh could see the realization dawning on his face and was laughing now.
“Oh, you asshole,” Luke grunted, pulling his gloves off and rubbing his knuckles. He walked away to hydrate. “Jesus.”
“You shouldn’t give me that opportunity, then.” Hugh put down his pads and followed at a leisurely stroll. “Mitch on your mind?”
Luke caught his breath, but there was nobody else around right now—just him and Hugh. There was no way he could admit to Hugh with a straight face what they’d done the other day. At the same time, Luke was responsible for telling his trainer about distractions.
“A little,” he admitted. “It’s weird, him blowing—” Don’t laugh. “—back into town after all these years. You know?”
Hugh nodded. “I thought it might be that. Were you guys ever…?”
Luke leaned against the water fountain button, freezing for a moment before leaning down to gulp water. That was a bombshell.
Hugh had never once asked about his love life, and vice versa. They just didn’t talk about that. A lot of guys talked about their girlfriends or their jobs, just in generic terms, without ever talking . But Luke and Hugh didn’t share those details.
If Hugh was asking, there was a reason.
“No,” he answered as he pulled away, wiping his mouth on his arm. “Fuck, no.”
Hugh seemed to accept it, leaning in past him to drink, too.
“I ratted him out for… well, you know… and then it turned out it wasn’t him.”
Hugh straightened up and frowned, the confusion evident on his face. “What wasn’t him?”
“At the bar.”
Hugh’s jaw dropped. It was hard to surprise him, but there it was. “What? Nobody around here knows that. You saw someone else?”
The guilt was a sharper kick to the stomach than Hugh could ever give him. Luke looked away for a moment, then down to his knuckles to check the tape. “Yeah. Looked a damn sight like him in the lighting, but the second time I saw him I realized…”
“But it was too late,” Hugh guessed. “Jesus Christ. Why didn’t he defend himself?”
Luke laughed bitterly and raised his shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know.”
Maybe…
But