Recap:

Two years ago, Flo Brine fled to Australia. There were many reasons as to why she left, including her mother's infidelity which led to the break down of her family, her broken friendships and the fact that she was raped. Now she's back, and trying to heal. From her friends, she's only met with Jake, and although their relationship at first was hostile, they starting to warm up to each other again. Jake found out that she was raped, through a letter that she wrote, yet never actually intended for him to read. He invited her to train with him at the gym, to which she accepted. 

Fourteen

Flo

For the past week, I've been meeting Jake at the gym every morning. Slowly, yet surely, the Flo that stepped inside that gym with every passing day started to evolve. It started with the slight alleviation of weight on my shoulders, leaving me with a lighter feeling in my chest. Then, it was the pinch of confidence that lifted every one of my steps. Now, I can pass through the thresholds of these sliding doors of Hope gymnasium with, dare I say, a genuine smile on my face.

It's small, but it's something.

Jake's waiting for me, leant against the reception desk in his grey t-shirt that hugs his broad chest. His arms fold neatly over each other as he watches me walk towards him. No doubt, I know he can sense a difference in me too. It's only been a week, and it's small, but like I said, it's something.

He glances at the clock hung to the wall on his left.

"Just on time," he says.

"Actually, I'm early by two minutes," I smile as I come to a halt in front of him.

"An improvement, compared to yesterday," he chuckles, and I do too at the memory of yesterday morning.

"Look, it was a stray cat and it needed feeding. It was sat right next to my car, what was I gonna do? Have it stare at me like that and not give it something to eat?" Jake rolls his eyes as his lips pull into a bigger smile, meanwhile I explain why I was almost twenty minutes late to our usual six a.m. workout session yesterday.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he sighs. "Damn cat is more important than me, I see how it is," he mumbles under his breath jokingly as he pushes himself off of the reception desk. I laugh at his silliness, though this playful behaviour of his that has been slowly revealing itself to me over the past week makes me feel so warm inside.

"Don't let him fool you," a feminine voice hidden behind the reception desk makes both mine and Jake's head turn in its direction. "A couple of months ago, a stray cat wandered into the gym and he quit his training just to play with it.

The receptionist that I greet every morning when I come into the gym straightens in her seat so she can see us over the desk. A knowing smile shapes her lips as she looks at Jake, whose response is funnily defensive.

"I just wanted an excuse to quit training, alright?" He looks from her to me.

I raise my eyebrows at him, not believing a word he says.

"And, yeah, it was a cute cat," he admits, the smile that he was previously trying to hide turns into a gorgeous grin.

The receptionist and I both laugh, before she says, "he comes across as tough, but he's a softie."

Her words make him shake his head as he laughs, and it causes a subtle heat to ignite behind my breastbone.

I know. He's a teddy bear at heart, I only wish I could see that side of him more.

"Okay, okay, should we go up?" Jake says to try and change the subject, making his way to the staircase behind the reception desk.

"Sure, softie," I reply as I follow his lead, making the reception laugh while he gives me another signature eye roll in return.

***

"One more minute, come on," Jake says to my horror.

"I'm dying here," I manage to say between gasps for air.

We've been skipping for the past twenty minutes. I didn't even know skipping was a thing people did for exercise. Now I know why so many people actually do it, but I'm also confused as to why someone would torture themselves this much. It kills.

"Keep going, come on," he hurriedly gestures for me to pick up the rope that I not so long ago threw on the floor because I felt like I was going to be sick.

Adjusting his own, he resumes skipping. For a split second, I pause to take him in. His grey t-shirt is drenched with his own sweat, droplets of which are slithering down his forehead from his golden hair to his eyebrows. His skipping is much more professional-looking than mine; he jumps only slightly off the ground with every loop of the rope, making his efforts look slick. It's probable that I look like an Oompa Loompa compared to him.

I groan at his resilience and reluctantly continue until what feels like an eternity passes and the timer rings to let us know that the pain is finally over. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but with the way my heart is trying to break out of my chest, it's for good reason.

"Water," he breathes, grabbing my water bottle and handing it to me, before fetching his.

Chugging half the bottle down as if I haven't had a sip in days, I wipe the sweat that practically leaks from my forehead.

"You are trying to kill me,"

"I am trying to make you stronger," he responds after he too chugs down almost all of his water. His broad chest heaves as he goes to rest on the bench.

"I'm not going to be a boxer, unfortunately. I'll leave that job to you."

Taking a few slow and exhausted strides, I drop onto the seat next to him. This is how our gym sessions over the past two weeks have ended: water bottles in hand at the ready for a drink, panting from the gruelling torture Jake has put us both through, and enjoying each other's company with a small chat before we go our separate ways until the next day. These past two weeks have easily been the happiest I've felt in a long time.

"I'm not trying to make you into the boxer, I just want you to be strong."

"Why?"

"To keep you healthy, happy, and it gives you a little bit of self defence too." There is a slight serious edge to his tone. "Plus, you used to throw a really weak punch," he finishes with a chuckle.

"Hey!" I playfully hit him on the shoulder. "For someone who's never punched before, I had a good punch!" Even I can't stop the lie from making my lips curve. I was shit, we both know it.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he laughs, taking another swig from his water bottle to finish the last droplets of water left in it. "So, you're coming back to school, right?"

"Uh, yeah," I say, already anxious at just the mention of the place. When I go back to school, I'll eventually have to see everyone again. That includes Georgia and River.

"What's wrong?"

I shake my head very unconvincingly.

"Flo, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, really. It's just, I'm gonna see everyone,"

He squints his eyes at me in thought, pausing for a few moments before suggesting something.

"You can see them before school, if you would like? I'm having a party this weekend, come."

"Your birthday party?" September 3rd. He turns eighteen.

His head cocks to the side, brows arching with suspicion as he says, "that time you filled in the form in the hospital a few weeks ago, you said you didn't know my birthday?"

"Actually, I never said I didn't know it. It's the 3rd of September. Who else gave you a card on time, without fail, every year?" I give him a knowing look.

He chuckles softly in recollection of the infamous birthday cards, "you always had to pick the most disgusting pictures of my face, didn't you?"

Every year since we were tweens, I would make a card, collaging his most unattractive pictures on the front and delivering it to him on the morning of his birthday. Albeit, it was difficult to find an unattractive picture of him, even before he reached puberty. Jake was a cute kid, and blossomed into the handsome young man sat with me now.

"Of course,"

He shakes his head with a cute smile, "well, anyway, come if you'd like. It'll be a good way to break the ice between you and them."

Come. He wants me to be there. Another thing that makes me feel warm.

"I'll be there," I smile, and he returns it. "And...see you tomorrow?" I get up from the bench, dragging my gym bag up with me that sits at my feet.

"Tomorrow's a rest day," his smile only grows wider to show off his white teeth. "But I like your commitment."

I shrug, twisting back to face him, "it's kind of addictive, exercising, once you get into it."

His crystalline eyes follow the curve of my body to my lower legs and flick back up to stare me down. Grabbing his bag and hooking it up on his shoulder, he slowly brings himself up to his full height; my head follows him up as my gaze lingers on his.

"How's your diet?"

I stick my lower lip out in thought, "it's fine, I guess?" I try to think back to my last meal, which was yesterday afternoon. As if on queue, my belly rumbles, audible enough to be heard by him. His eyebrows furrow slightly as he quickly glances down at my abdomen, just as my hands go to shield it.

"Flo, are you eating well?"

To think of it now, I haven't given my diet much thought. Though, I still nod.

"Want to have lunch together, if you're free of course?"

Instantaneously, my heartbeat gallops at his offer. I rake my brain for the schedule of my day, praying that I don't have anything to do before my shift at the restaurant begins. "I have a shift at four, so as long as we're done before then, then I'm free."

"Great, meet me at mine at twelve?"

No matter how hard I try to consume it, the gleam brightens my face as he makes me smile. This giddy feeling takes me back to when I was sixteen and completely infatuated with him.

***

I managed to get to Jake's apartment complex fifteen minutes early and tried to do whatever I could to pass the time that went by so excruciatingly slowly. As I glance between my phone and the grand entrance to the lobby, the clock finally strikes twelve and I get out of my car. Making my usual way past the concierge, up the lift and down the corridor towards his apartment door, I only have to wait a few seconds after ringing the doorbell for Jake to swing the door open. He presses his index finger to his lips, as to tell me to be quiet as he naturally continues his conversation on the phone.

"Yeah, that should be fine. Six more weeks of training is plenty, I'll knock him out."

Jake moves aside to let me in, but his words cling to the air, making my throat suddenly dry.

Is he talking about Jason?

The horrible thought of him is distracting by a delicious smell, which wafts its way from the kitchen to me. I turn my head over my shoulder to look at Jake, who has a smug smirk on his face, knowing that I've smelt whatever he's cooked up.

"Right boss, I need to go. I've got gluten-free pasta to make," he winks at me, and my gleam in return is automatic. "No, you can't have any, bye!"

And with that, he ends the call and shoves the phone into his jeans pocket.

"Hey, sorry about that, duty calls," he greets. "You like pasta right?"

"You remembered,"

"Remembered what?" He asks, following the amazing scent to lead the way to the kitchen.

"That I'm coeliac,"

I don't know whether to laugh in joy, or cry in despair. Jake remembers, but my own mother didn't. Halting at the fridge, I watch as he uncovers the saucepan to check on his dish.

"How can I not remember? You're allergic."

"Mum didn't,"

At that, he looks up at me, replacing the lid without looking.

"What do you mean?"

"I stayed with her for the first few days that I was here. She offered me bread about a hundred times, didn't stop until I reminded her."

The skin between his brows creases with his frown; he opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Instead, a sigh is released through his taught lips.

"Whatever," I wave my hand to dismiss the topic as if it's nothing, though I cannot deny the fact that it weighs down on my heart.

"Is she still giving you silent treatment?" He asks, concern in his voice.

"Well she was talking to me when I was there, but since I left the house she hasn't called."

"So she's why you left,"

"No not just that," I shake my head. "I needed to stand on my own two feet. I came back to grow up, I'm sick of being sheltered by my parent's money all the time."

"Yeah, same. It's why I moved out too. Didn't want to rely on my parents anymore."

That's not the Jake I'm used to. Jake was spoiled rotten by his parents and he loved it.

"What happened to being mummy and daddy's little boy?"

The edges of his lips twitch up to dent the sun kissed around them.

"That boy is no longer, I'm independent now. Apart from the laundry, mum still does that."

A grin brightens my face. Of course his mother would still do that.

"I'm glad, guess we're all growing up."

"I guess so," he nods, and for a fraction of a second his ocean eyes land on my lips before averting back to the pan. "The table is already set, so I'll take this over, can you just grab two water bottles from the fridge, unless you want something else to drink?"

"Uh, no. Water is fine, thank you."

With a faintly fluttering heart, I take the two bottles of water and follow Jake to the dining area across from the kitchen.

***

Look out your window. He texted me.

This was a few months before our GCSE* exams, just before the storm that wreaked havoc on my life. I remember climbing off my bed and hurrying to my window ledge, searching the driveway until my eyes landed on his. He was stood at the closed gates. When he saw me, he brought his phone up to his ear just as my phone started to ring. I answered him.

"Lloyd,"

"I got you fried chicken, get your ass out here," he says into the receiver, a playful grin tugging at his lips. 

He holds up the brown paper bag of goodies.

"You're a legend, I'll be right down."

The fond memory comes in the form of a dream. Before it can progress, the crystal clear picture of a distant memory becomes foggy, then begins to crumble away just as my eyes open up to reality. I have to blink a few times to adjust to the brightness of the room. When my eyes eventually focus, they expect to see the ceiling of my studio apartment, or my kitchen cabinets that sit a couple of meters from the foot of my bed. But no, I see a widescreen TV glued to a white wall with a surround sound system symmetrically placed either side of it.

This is not my apartment.

This is not my bed.

This is a sofa.

Not my sofa.

Shit.

Jolting upright, my head shoots around to assess my environment.

Shit.

I'm still at Jake's apartment.

"You're awake,"

The man himself speaks from the bottom of his stairs and my eyes shoot in his direction.

"Jake," I half gasp, half cough. "How long have I been asleep for?" I ask as he makes his way towards me, rounding the edge of the sofa to sit down beside me.

How the hell did I even fall asleep? The last thing I remember was eating at the dining table.

"Not long, maybe half an hour. We were watching something, and you knocked out."

I cover my face with hand in annoyance, "you should've woken me up."

A laugh escapes him as he wraps his fingers around my wrist to try and peel my hand away. I let him.

"Don't be silly, you can go upstairs to sleep if you want?"

I wonder if he can see the pink hue that I feel is surfacing on my cheeks.

"No, no," I shake my head. "Thank you, but I can't sleep anymore."

"I'm not just talking about now," he quietly says.

His fingers unravel from my wrist only to find mine. The delicate gaze of his lowers to my hand, helping to guide his fingers to hold mine. A wave of foreign sensation tingles its way up from my hand to my arm; the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight. I study his face as he continues to study my hand. There's a subtle constellation of freckles that dot across his nose, they compliment his olive skin. It's the first time I've noticed them, but they're beautiful, like him.

"Anytime you need somewhere to crash, I have a spare room upstairs. You're more than welcome here, I hope you understand that."

Only after he's finished what he has to say does he look up at me.

Suddenly, my vision starts to blur. Either it's what he's just said, or the fact that he cares so much anyway, but I feel overwhelmed with it all. Attempting to drop my head to avoid his stare that is making me even more emotional, he uses his index finger to lift my head to face him again.

"I mean it, Flo," he edges closer. "If I didn't already know how stubborn you are, I would've already offered for you to stay here all the time."

We both grin at that last statement, and that's all it takes for a tear to overspill and leave its wet trail down my cheek. With his free hand, he wipes it away with a swipe of his finger.

"Don't cry," he says. "I don't want to make you cry."

His comment only makes another tear roll down my face.

"Oh, I get it, I have onion breath right? Jeez, you don't have to cry about it, I'll just go get a mint," he says sarcastically, his playful smile brightening his face.

I laugh as I shake my head, using my free hand to wipe both my eyes dry.

If only you knew, Jake, that the tears I'm crying now are from happiness. The happiness that you bring.

My phone that is placed on the rectangular coffee table before us starts to vibrate onto the glass surface, ruining our blissful exchange.

"Sorry, one sec," I say, reaching for it to see Becca's name lightening up the screen.

He sees it too. We both let go of each others hands and the air between us suddenly feels heavy. Her name reminds me of the agonising fact that Jake is basically dating my step sister, or whatever is going on between them. I decide not to answer it and place the phone back onto the table after muting the vibration.

"It's Becca," I say, stating what he already knows. "I'll call her back later."

"How is she?" He asks after a moment of silence.

"I haven't spoken to her recently, so I wouldn't know. You probably know more than I do."

"Why would I?" He furrows his brows.

"You are seeing each other aren't you?"

"No," he rapidly replies. "I mean, we did go on a couple of dates, but it was very casual, and I see her around, but it's nothing more, and would never be."

"Does she know that?" I ask.

"Of course," he's serious when he says it. "You know me, Flo. I wouldn't lead a girl on like that. I'm honest when it comes to this stuff."

With that he's true. Jake has always been a playboy when it comes to girls, but they know what they're getting themselves into. He ensures that they know that it's casual, and will make clear to them whether or not he intends on any further progression, which has never been the case, as far as I know. Whether someone agrees with his method of dating or not, at least he's honest, upfront and sets the cards straight, rather than leading a girl on with false hopes and expectations.

Back when all I ever wanted was to be with him, his bluntness when it came to love was the reason why I was never open with him. I kept my love for him bottled up, admiring from afar, and wishing one day he'd reciprocate the feelings for me and make the first move. Unfortunately, those chances were ruined when I kissed River* and shortly after left for Australia.

"It surprised me, you know. You and Becca, I didn't expect it."

He starts to shake his head, seemingly uncomfortable about the topic.

"Flo, believe me when I tell you nothing happened. And, I never knew she was your step sister until further in, if I knew from the beginning, I swear I wouldn't have."

"You wouldn't have what?"

"Spoken to her, gone on the dates, everything,"

"Jake, you don't need to say this, it's fi-"

"I do," he sighs. "And it's not fine, I feel uncomfortable enough with the situation, so I'll try to redeem myself as much as I can."

I give him a small smile, placing my hand on his in an attempt to give him some comfort.

"Jake, you don't need to redeem yourself, it's fine."

I have to swallow before I muster up some might to say the next sentence.

"It's not as if there's a bro code between you and I, you can date whoever you want."

That was harder to say than I anticipated. The words that hover in the air around us sting wounds on my chest that I didn't even know I had. I can only wish Jake all the happiness in the world, and if that happiness doesn't lie with me, as much as I want it to, I have to accept that.

He glances down at my hand that moulds over his, then back up at me. His eyes change, the warmth that was there a moment ago is replaced by something else.

"Maybe you don't get it," he says, lifting himself from his seat next to me. Our hands untie from each other.

Confused, I reach for his wrist to stop him moving any further.

"What? What's wrong?"

His stunning eyes look down to my fingers that are wound tight around his wrist, then meet my mediocre ones. Slowly, he lowers himself back down, closer to me. Taking my hand in his again, he strokes it with his thumb, never taking his eyes off of it when he talks.

"Nothing's wrong, you're just oblivious sometimes," he says in a low voice.

"About what?" My heart rate picks up at this point - I'm not entirely sure of what he means but I have an inkling.

You have more than an inkling, but you just don't want to get your hopes up, just in case it's wrong.

Twisting to face me, he slowly, and with a little hesitance, brings a hand up to my face, stroking my cheek in the same place where not too long ago he wiped away my tear. His sparkling eyes, shielded by thick, luscious lashes are enhanced by the sunshine spraying in through the open blinds behind us, making the blue-green colour magically glint as he searches through my own. With every second that passes, I feel the drumming of my heart increase in strength and pace. I'm lost within his orbs that I almost miss what he says next.

"You're oblivious to how I feel, how I've always felt,"

My eyes widen marginally, but I still can't believe that he's saying what I think he's saying.

Believe it, Flo.

"What do you mean?" I breathe.

He smiles at this, looking down for a moment.

"You see what I mean - you're oblivious,"

"No," I rapidly respond. "I only want to be sure."

He traces his finger to the side of my face to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His gentle, caressing touch shoots sparks of electricity through my skin.

"Let me assure you then," his words are barely over a whisper.

It's only just come to my realisation that our faces are merely a few inches apart. Our proximity means I can feel his warm breath against my lips - it makes me shiver. He's hesitant to lean in any closer, I can tell by the way he searches my eyes for permission. I give him permission.

I close the gap between us.

My lips gently brush against his while his press up against mine a little harder, returning the kiss. For that moment, my eyes close, lost in another world of just me and him. The banging against my ribcage intensifies; the sound radiates to the my eardrums, blocking any external noise from intruding. For that moment, I forget about any pain.

My eyelids flutter open when we pull away. I stare into his eyes as he stares back into mine.

"Do you understand what I mean now?" He whispers after a few seconds of blissful silence.

My words are tangled up with an uneven breath as I struggle to calm my nerves, but I manage to answer him.

"I understand," 

***

Ahhhhhh. Hello! *waves*

*River - For those of you who forgot, he is Jake's best friend. He used to be a good friend of Flo's too. Two years back, River was dating Georgia (and at the time, she was pregnant with his child), Flo's best friend. One night, at a party, Flo kissed River. This led to the breakdown of Flo and Goergia's friendship, but also when Jake found out, he was mad, because he liked Flo. Hence, Flo's friends (Jake, River, Georgia, and Ky all distanced themselves from her at the time - another reason why she decided to leave for Australia).

*GCSEs - UK exams that students in their final year of secondary school (at 16 years old) take. 

Please don't kill me. I know it's been such a long time, and I want to apologise. From the bottom of my heart, I am so so so sorry for leaving you guys for so long. 

Okay, so I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. It was difficult to start writing again, since I've been absent for almost a year. I hope you guys are still with me! If you are, thank you (so so so so much) for your love and support. It means the world. 

NEWS:

I've started my very first blog! I love writing, and although fiction will always be my go-to, I'm trying to venture into blogging as well. This opportunity will enable me to keep you updated on my books, give you 'behind-the-scenes' of the making of the chapters, answer any questions you have and share basically anything and everything I want with you. I would love for you to join me on my blogging adventures! 

Just go to: 

https://itsindiea.com

In one of my first blog posts so far, I've explained in more detail why I disappeared off the face of the planet, and more importantly how I managed to find my way back. It also has some cool 'behind-the-scenes' of the writing of this chapter. I'd love for you to go read it and tell me what you think. I'm hoping to start blogging more and more (mainly about my writing, but also about other things)! 

If you want to read this specific blog post, go to:

https://itsindiea.com/2019/09/02/chapter-fourteen-of-the-boxer-i/

Again, thank you so much for you support. It means so much. 

Stay beautiful,

Indie xoxo