Free Below the Belt by Sarah Mayberry Page B

could be hung like a hamster and it would all be over in five seconds flat,” he said.
    Was he insane, or did he actually just run down his own sexual performance to an incredibly hot woman?
    She rolled her eyes. “ Puh-lease, you think I’m feeling impaired? I had my hands on you last night, I know what you’re packing. I know exactly what I’m missing out on.”
    Damn, now he was blushing. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he glanced at her and found she was laughing at him with her eyes.
    “Don’t worry, I get it,” she said. “I just wanted to give you a hard time.”
    Hard being the operative word.
    “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
    “My pleasure. And I mean that,” she said.
    “Just for that, you can drop and give me fifty push-ups,” he said.
    She raised an eyebrow at him, then hit the mat and started counting them off.
    Man, she was a piece of work. He couldn’t help but admire her courage. Her frank and open attitude to sex was hot, and her straight-down-the-line way of handling the world was just plain likeable.
    She was likeable. Under different circumstances, at a different time…
    He frowned. Even if he did allow himself to sleep with Jamie, her likeability or not wouldn’t make any difference to the outcome. He’d never had a relationship with any woman that lasted longer than a few months. His career meant he moved around a lot. Plus he’d been exposed to a lot of gorgeous women who were more than happy to have sex with him, no strings attached. There had never been a lot of incentive to commit himself to one woman before.
    But life was a little different these days. He was enjoying not having to travel around as much. He had a great house in Annandale, a couple of minutes’ drive from the gym, and when he wasn’t itching to be back in the ring, he was enjoying spending more time with his friends and less time training. Who was to say that his attitude toward women wasn’t changing as well?
    All of which was irrelevant where Jamie was concerned, he reminded himself as she counted off the last push-up and rolled onto her back to catch her breath.
    “You’re a real hard-ass. And I can vouch for that,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him suggestively.
    He told her to clock some time on the long bag before walking away. Only then did he let himself smile. She had lip to spare, that was for sure.
    That night, he made his way over to Ray Marshall’s place for dinner with a couple of old boxing buddies. It was a boys’ night, and the beer and language flowed thick and fast as they talked bull. Like Ray, the other two guys, Tom and Marco, were still actively fighting, and Cooper felt a distinct pang of envy when he heard them discussing their upcoming bouts and talking about cutting weight and training schedules.
    Gotta get over that, he told himself as he made his way to the bathroom in between courses. No point wanting something you can never have.
    It wasn’t as though he wasn’t enjoying his new role as trainer. He’d been surprised by how satisfying he found it, in fact. It wasn’t the same as being the king of the ring, but he was beginning to appreciate the benefits of shaping someone else’s career, the satisfaction of helping someone else achieve their goals. He was good at it, too. Pretty soon, his gym was going to be attracting talent from all over.
    His life wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
    Like the rest of the house, Ray’s bathroom was large and modern, although he’d personalized it with some boxing memorabilia. After washing his hands, Cooper stopped to admire a Muhammad Ali poster, a montage of classic images from the great man’s career alongside his complete fight history.
    It made him think of Arthur Holloway’s boast that he’d fought Ali, and the way the old man had colored when Cooper had called him on it. Man, talk about an awkward moment.
    He was about to turn away and rejoin Ray and the other guys when he caught sight of a name on the fight