My boxing Angel

Chapter 10

~Jasmine~

“That out to hurt,” I hear Elias’ draw in a breath.

“Oh, that is definitely going to leave a mark,” Rafael remarks as he squints his eyes in discomfort at what they are watching.

We arrived two days earlier at the house that was being rented at Vincenzo’s request. Not that I’m complaining, but after yesterday’s fiasco with my shoes and the dinner with the brothers, which surprisingly went well, they each decided to do their own thing for the day, which meant that I had a whole day to myself, which I gladly used to take a few photos of Los Angeles. When I finished with my photos, I returned to the house to see the brothers all huddled up in the living room watching something. I sneak into the living room and stand just behind the couch, trying to sneak a peek at what they are seeing.

“What are you guys watching?” I ask, and when I’m close enough to the guys, they all jump at the sound of my voice, and Joaquin accidentally drops the phone they were using.

“Shush, woman,” Elias says in a whisper, signaling me to keep it down. In an instant, Rafael takes hold of my elbow and pulls me down so that I’m practically hugging them.

“We are watching a video of the fighter that Enzo is going up against,” Joaquin whispers, and I narrow my eyes, confused as to why we are whispering, but they are the only ones who can answer my question.

“Why are we whispering?” I ask them in a whisper and mentally facepalm myself for playing their game.

“Enzo doesn’t like it when we look up his opponent,” Rafael says with a shrug. I nod my head in understatement, and then Joaquin resumes the video. The guy Vincenzo is fighting against is big, has a lot of muscle, and is quick on his feet. He is going to be a tough opponent against Vincenzo, but I know Vincenzo can hold his ground and win the match, he just needs to be smart about it.

“What are you doing?” a dark voice asks from behind us, we all scurried to our feet in an instant, trying to act natural but failing miserably.

"Nothing,” Elias is quick to answer as he shifts weight from one foot to the other. Vincenzo doesn’t wait a second and snatches the phone from Joaquin’s grasp, and his eyebrows knit together in confusion when he notices what we are watching.

“What have I told you about doing this s**t?” he demands, and we all look to the floor, avoiding his burning stare. “Do not do this again,” he snarls, tossing the phone on the sofa and slamming the door to his bedroom.

-

I spent the rest of the day outside the house, taking even more pictures to add to my private gallery. I like to take pictures everywhere I travel, but I mostly just save them for myself and send some to my parents and Beckett. I still haven’t developed the courage to share my photos with the world. They are so intimate and so mine that it scares me that someone will not like them or make fun of them. So instead of going through that heartache, I just keep it to myself.

After eating at the table with 4 silent brothers, each in their own world, not saying a word, and avoiding each other’s eyes, I locked myself in my room and waited for the hours to pass until my brother would call. He said that he managed to squeeze in a few minutes with me in his tight schedule, which I’m grateful for. Even if it’s just a minute with him, I will be happy.

The clock ticks at 1 a.m., and I let out a disappointed breath. I guess Beckett won’t be calling me tonight. I pull the covers off and decide to grab a glass of water before sleeping.

I close the door to my room and see a dim light in the far corner of the hallway. I slowly make my way towards it and see Vincenzo sitting in the dining room with his head in his hands as he tightens his grip on his hair.

“Why are you awake at this hour?” I question him, putting my hands on my hips, trying to show my dominance. “You are supposed to be resting for tomorrow’s fight.” I fuss at him, but Vincenzo doesn’t react and keeps his head hung low. “Are you okay?” I walk closer to him, and he finally meets my stare.

“I’m not okay,” he says timidly. “I’m nervous,” he says, starting to fidget with his fingers, probably as a nervous tick.

“Well, that’s pretty normal,” I tell him with a small smile, but Vincenzo starts to shake his head.

"I don’t get nervous for my fights,” he tells me as he shakes his hands vigorously, trying to stop his nervous tick. “I don’t know what to do,” he says softly, and I feel my heartache at his words. He looks so lost. He is not the confident, teasing, and bratty Vincenzo I’m so used to.

This Vincenzo is afraid.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” I try to soothe him as I place my hand on his, but my words don’t work. Vincenzo looks at me with pleading eyes, and I frown.

“I know what can help!” I say with excitement and grab a hold of his hand. I pulled him toward the sofa and then pushed him down to sit. “This show always cheers me up,” I tell him with a smile, and I see Vincenzo trying to give me one back but failing.

The theme song of my guilty pleasure begins, and I notice Vincenzo trying to relax on the sofa.

“Isn’t this a kids’ show?” he asks, looking at me skeptically.

“Trust me, Bluey is a life savior,” I tell him, and he laughs at my excitement. Hearing his laughter made warmth spread all over me in ways I couldn’t even begin to express.

-

We are five episodes into Bluey, and I can feel Vincenzo finally relaxed, I smile when I see how invested he is with the show. I shiver when a breeze enters the house, making my hairs lift and creating goosebumps. Vincenzo takes notice of me trying to soothe down the bumps. “Are you cold?” he asks, and I give him a shy smile.

“Just a little,” I tell him in a whisper, and I see his eyebrows knit together. He opens his arms, and I look at him in question.

“Come here,” he tells me, but I only stare at him. He doesn’t actually mean, what I think he means, does he?

I move slowly toward him; when I’m close enough, Vincenzo pulls me flush against him, and I let out a yelp at the sudden movement. I quickly blink when I notice that he has placed me on his lap, straddling him. I feel his breath on my ear, and I pull back, only to end up inches away from his lips. Vincenzo is even more handsome up close; his hands are on my hips, holding me tightly, but not enough to bruise or hurt.

I feel my body inclining towards Vincenzo. Maybe just a taste of his soft-looking lips.

Just maybe…