Read Fighting for Free Online

a doorway right where I was and another at the
end of the hall that led to the same room.  There were no windows into the room
except for on the doors.  I peeked through one, and found a dude in there,
alone.  This was probably Ethan in the studio.
    He
was working furiously at beating the shit out of a punching bag, punching and
kicking alternately and impressively.  Only watching him for a few seconds, I
could already tell he was more man than boy.  He looked the closest to my age
of anyone yet.  His dark brown hair was only a shade or two lighter than mine
and longer on top than it was in the back or sides.  Only in recent years did I
come to be a fan of a facial hair, and this guy had a beard that was a day or
two passed a five o'clock shadow, and it looked spectacular on his sharp jaw
line. 
    Sweet
Jesus, Probably Ethan was ridiculously attractive.  But not in a pretty way. 
No, he was many things, but cute or pretty didn't cut it.  He was wearing long
black shorts and a black shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and bulging
muscles.  His chest and arms were well defined, and I'd bet money that his
stomach was toned as hell, too.  He wasn't overly muscled, like an oiled up
body builder (though he was shiny with sweat) but he wasn't a lightweight,
either.  He was bulky enough that you knew his was a fight you would not win
and lithe enough to still move gracefully.  
    My
eyes were continually scanning his frame, watching his technique, so it took me
a second to notice that his movements slowed and almost stopped altogether.  I
looked at his head again and saw the back of his head instead of his profile.
    Oh
shit, he was staring right at me in the mirror!   He caught me checking him
out.  This was really not good.  Now he would think I had some weird crush on
him, and I hated when someone thought I had feelings for them when I
didn't, especially strangers.  And I was going to have to live in the same
building as this guy!
    He
was pretty far away from me but even so, I could see that he had blue eyes and
they were sharp on my face.  I had to school my features to keep from giving
anything away, like how my nerves intensified under his gaze and I also kind of
wanted to drool.  I was irritated at just how closely I was checking the guy
out.  Fucking hell, what was the matter with me?  I saw attractive men every
day and never reacted like this. 
    Maybe
it was just first day nerves.
    Though,
I didn't have this reaction to anyone else, even Ross, who was nice looking and
seemed like he was relatively young, about twenty five, and openly checked out
my legs.  Yeah, my peripheral vision works just fine, buddy.
    I
couldn't make myself look away from Probably Ethan.  There was a vague tickling
in the back of my brain, trying to make itself known.  He bent down to swipe a
towel off the ground and raised it to his face as he pivoted around to look
right at me.  I saw his profile again, mid-pivot, and it slammed into me.
    His
eyes found mine again and flicked down to my lips when I whispered, "Son
of a bitch!"
    He
smirked at me knowingly and I narrowed my eyes at him.  Probably Ethan was New
Guy, from the almost-robbery yesterday!  All of a sudden, I was very irritated
and vaguely embarrassed, all because of him.  This guy was one of Brooks'
minions, he saw my (probably sloppy) handiwork, and told the cops I got lucky. 
Arrogant bastard.
    I
had questions for Brooks, too.  Did he set up the whole thing yesterday to
manipulate me?  And why was Ethan there before Brooks?
    I
wanted to turn on my heel and dramatically storm off, which I've never done or
wanted to do in my life.  I also had a strong urge to open the door and cuss
him out.  But I didn't do either of these things.  Instead, I kept glaring at
him, which only seemed to amuse him further and make me angrier.
    "Are
you okay?" a voice asked.
    So
focused on trying to drill holes into Probably Ethan's head with my eyes, I
didn't even notice that