The Boxer

When her reply eventually came, a few hours later, it was brief and disappointing: [Hey. I can't, I have to work. I'll see you at the gym.]

* * * * *

Megan's boxing gloves connected hard with the pads Jordan was holding: left jab, right cross, left hook. She finished the combination with a right low kick, which Jordan blocked with her shin pad.

"Good. Again!" Jordan said as she reset the position of the pads. Megan repeated the sequence vigorously.

"Now, remember to put your whole body behind your punches. Here, let me show you."

Jordan hooked her hands out of the pads and dropped them. She stepped closer and put her hands on Megan's hips.

A surge of electricity went through Megan's body and she fought the urge to recoil. It wasn't so much the fact that Jordan's hands were on her that caused her reluctance; it was her own reaction to the touch. Although her mind was fighting her attraction to the gorgeous boxer, her body had not gotten that memo.

"Execute those punches again, slowly, and pay attention to the movement of your hips."

As Megan went through the combination, Jordan's hands guided her hips to move along with the punches, twisting left and right as her arms extended. Megan avoided eye contact but she was aware of Jordan's intense gaze on her movement, on the swaying of her hips. Standing so close to her, touching her, Jordan was driving up Megan's body temperature. She cursed her body for betraying her and twisted away from Jordan's grip as soon as she'd finished the sequence.

"Can you feel how much more power you have when you put your hips into it?" Jordan continued, unperturbed by her reaction.

The girl seemed intent on being as friendly and supportive as possibly, even though Megan was finding it hard to reciprocate. The times they'd seen each other at the gym immediately following their coffee date had been awkward. Both of them had been edging around the other, pretending everything was normal but both realising something had shifted. Megan had not wanted to make a big deal of things by refusing to partner with her, but their attention had been much more on the moves than on each other.

However, Megan had noticed a shift in Jordan's behaviour. Perhaps it had started today, or even last week; she couldn't be sure. It seemed that Jordan had decided to increase her efforts to get Megan to engage with her. She'd been talkative, encouraging, smiley. She'd even winked at Megan once or twice again. And now she was finding excuses to touch her, it seemed. What was going on? Megan was far from an expert on courting behaviour, but if she didn't know any better, that's what she'd call it.

But it couldn't be that, obviously; Jordan had made it abundantly clear she wasn't interested in Megan in that way. So it must just be another way of re-establishing their friendship. Megan wasn't ready for that. She didn't rule out that in time they could be friends, but now Jordan's efforts were just distracting her from her resolve to take her distance. How could she stay away from her, mentally, if she was so close, physically?

"Let's go again," she grunted, nudging Jordan to put the pads back on.

"See, that's better. I can feel how much more powerful those punches are now." Jordan smiled encouragingly.

"With your low kick...," she then continued, "remember that you're trying to hit me here." She ran her hand along her outer thigh, pausing at a point midway up. "Or even here, further back. You'd hit the sciatic nerve, which is a very powerful target." She moved her hand to a spot at the back of her thigh, just below her buttock. "You can actually feel where you'd need to hit it, just here." She looked at Megan invitingly.

Did she really expect Megan to touch her? "That's alright. I'll give it a try," Megan said instead, not trusting her hands to behave when laid on Jordan's body.

"Okay, try it. I'm not going to block it, so gently please!"

Megan kicked, a little harder than she intended. From the look on Jordan's face, she hit that nerve well enough.

"Ooof... I guess I deserved that," Jordan mumbled with a pained expression, rubbing the back of her thigh.

She then turned cheerily to Megan and gave her an appraising look: "Very good! Very impressive, actually. Let's put that in the combination. I'm going to check your kick though. I need to be able to walk tomorrow."

They practised the combination a few more times, Jordan encouraging Megan at every turn, until the trainer indicated that it was time for the final part of the lesson. Usually this meant the advanced fighters would spar, while the beginners had more time to practice their combinations, ask questions, receive one-on-one time, or work on the bags. Since they'd been training together, Jordan had usually stuck around Megan, working with her. She got more than enough sparring times on other days, she said.

Still looking for ways to create some space and give herself a chance to recollect, Megan said: "I think I'll just do some bag work today. Go ahead and spar with the others if you want."

Jordan looked slightly disappointed but respected her wish. She put on her gloves and jogged to the other side of the hall.

Megan turned to a punch bag and started going through some simple combinations. Her focus on her movements lapsed as her mind replayed the interactions she had with Jordan this morning. Jordan's hands on her body, swaying her gently, had made more of an impact than she cared to admit. It was as if she could still feel them on her now. Her own body was on autopilot, hitting and kicking the unfortunate punch bag more and more erratically, until she was forced to stop because she couldn't breathe. She panted and wiped the sweat off her face with the back of her forearm.

Her attention was drawn to the other side of the room. The trainer was giving instructions to Jordan. She was sparring with a tall, broad-shouldered guy, who looked like he could lift her with one finger. She was using her size to her advantage, ducking under his long arms and getting close to his body to deliver punches to his abdomen.

"Remember that those boxing bobs and weaves are not as effective in kickboxing! If Justin would actually use his legs now, you'd get hit in the face," the trainer said firmly.

Jordan moved back and hurled a well-executed high kick towards the other fighter's face. He staggered back and narrowly blocked it with his gloves, clearly surprised the short girl could reach that high.

Megan had of course witnessed Jordan's flexibility before, but she couldn't help but be impressed by the move. She'd take that guy out in no time if this were a real fight.

Jordan laughed her booming laugh and said: "It's a good thing he didn't use his legs then!"

"Nice kick," the trained complimented her. "Just be aware of your defence. There's a lot more limbs to take into account, especially in Thai boxing. A knee to the face hurts!"

"Noted. Thanks coach."

Jordan's gaze flitted across the room and met Megan's. She grinned, exposing her bright green gum guard. While not a sexy thing by far, there was something about that action that made Megan's belly flutter. It was the boyish boisterousness; the look to see if Megan had seen her move; the need for her appreciation. It was classic playground behaviour: showing off for the girl's attention.

She got the girl's attention, that was certain, but in this case the girl wasn't sure how she felt about that. Megan looked away and turned back to the punching bag, trying to block out Jordan's grin, which kept lingering in her mind.

At the end of the lesson, Megan was pleased to see that Jordan was engaged in a conversation with the trainer. Megan had to go straight to the university to finish an essay, so she had to shower and change at the gym again. The last thing she wanted to do was be alone in the changing room with Jordan, so she'd been racking her brain to find a way to avoid that. Now that Jordan was still chatting, she could perhaps get in and out quickly. Or at least time it so that she was in the shower while Jordan was in the changing room and vice versa.

The changing room was empty, as it had been the last time Megan was here. Just to be sure, she gave the first shower cubicle a quick knock to make sure no one was in there. The doors to the cubicles didn't lock so some aspiring comedian had put up a sign saying: 'Do knock it before you try it.' Rushing, Megan slipped inside.

While she was undressing, she heard the door to the changing room open and close. That was probably Jordan. Megan felt a rush going through her body; a rush of what, she wasn't sure. Panic? Excitement? She quickly switched on the shower to block out the distracting sounds of Jordan undressing. Soon after, she heard the shower in the cubicle next to hers being switched on.

Realising her timing was going to be off, Megan took her time showering. There was no way she was going to beat Jordan to it, so she might as well stay hidden in the shower cubicle. Not a very confident statement, but Megan felt anything but confident at the moment.

The shower in the next cubicle was switched off. Megan strained to hear any further sounds over the running water of her own shower. What was Jordan doing now? It didn't really matter, as long as Megan knew when she had left, so she could come out. She closed her eyes and let the water run down her face.

She was so lost in this calming sensation that a sudden noise right behind her startled her. Was that the door? Before she could turn around, she felt someone's hands on her hips, gently taking hold of her. They weren't restraining her in any way; they were merely making the presence of their owner known. Fighting her panic, Megan realised that it was oddly familiar; she'd felt this before, not half an hour earlier. In fact, the phantom feeling of those hands had never quite left her. Jordan. What was she doing here? Couldn't she see Megan was naked?!

Panicking, Megan moved her head from underneath the water and took a small step backwards in the process. She felt Jordan applying gentle pressure on her hips, drawing her closer. Her body slowly came in contact with Jordan's - first her buttocks, then her back, then her thighs - until she could feel Jordan pressed into her all along the length of her body. Standing out of reach of the water, her skin felt cool on Megan's. Megan's breath stopped. Was Jordan naked too? She couldn't feel any clothing but, then, it had become hard to concentrate.

Megan opened her mouth to say something - to demand an explanation, perhaps - but no words came out. She wanted to turn around - if nothing else to confirm her suspicions about Jordan's nakedness - but her body was frozen.

Jordan's hands moved along her sides, up to her shoulders, and then suddenly left her body. Megan felt herself missing them instantly. She should stop this; whatever this was, it had nothing to do with creating distance. And yet, when Jordan moved her body away from her, Megan couldn't stop hers from pressing backwards, following her; craving the contact.

As sudden as they had left, Jordan's hands were back, touching her shoulders. It was the smell that told Megan that she'd withdrawn them to put shower gel on them, which she was now gently spreading over Megan's shoulders and back. Megan's heart was racing. She shouldn't be allowing this; she should certainly not be enjoying this. Jordan's hands slid down over her lower back to her buttocks, leaving not one spot untouched.

There was something pragmatic about her movements, as if washing Megan's body was her only concern, and any tension or thrill caused by this was irrelevant.

Her hands moved over Megan's hips and up along her waist. As they travelled to the front of Megan's body, Jordan pressed her body into Megan's. Megan felt her breasts against her back. Her body responded automatically, pushing back into Jordan, her buttocks fitting neatly in the curve between Jordan's thighs and her belly.

Megan looked down to see Jordan's hands sliding up slowly, her dark skin contrasting starkly with Megan's pale stomach and the white foam created by the shower gel. Her mouth was dry and she found herself still unable to speak. Where were those hands going? As Jordan cupped her breasts, Megan's breath escaped her in a deep sigh. She hadn't realised she'd been holding it.

Jordan gently spread the soapy substance over her breasts, not paying them any more attention than she had any other part of her body. As her palms slid over Megan's nipples, a shiver went through her body. It felt so sudden and violent, compared to Jordan's slow and deliberate movements, that Megan was sure the other girl must have felt it too.

As soon as Jordan's hands moved away from her breasts, Megan regretted their absence. She didn't get long to contemplate this, as Jordan now moved down her belly and grazed the front of her hips. Her hands glided down Megan's thighs; her thumbs facing inward, meeting between her slightly separated legs.

Megan was sure Jordan would be able to feel the heat radiating from just above her hands. If it weren't for the water still running down the front of her legs, Jordan may even have encountered another sign of her excitement, involuntarily making its way downs her thighs.

It was there - just out of reach of where Megan by now couldn't help but hope she'd go - that Jordan left her hands, as she pulled Megan in close for a hug, pressing her cheek into Megan's shoulder.

"In case you were still wondering if I wanted us to be more than friends...," she whispered in Megan's ear.

At that, she slipped out of the cubicle as quickly and as quietly as she'd slipped in. Her departure left a cold abyss behind Megan's body that threatened to pull her in and drown her forever. She shivered and stepped back under the hot water, letting it rinse the soap off her.

What the hell was that? A million questions rushed through Megan's head, all fighting to be considered first. Her own conflicting feelings about what had just happened were hard to ignore. Her body had obviously completely betrayed her again, giving into, and reacting to, the delicious physical sensation of Jordan's touch. But the flesh was weak, as they said.

Her mind, however, was also not innocent. Why didn't she stop Jordan? The sheer thought of the chiselled body pressed into hers, of the beautiful face with that cute grin just behind her, had been enough to stop all thoughts of staying away from Jordan, of keeping her distance.

But why had Jordan done this to her? She didn't want to be with Megan. She'd said this explicitly a couple of weeks ago; she had no time for a girlfriend. Had she changed her mind? If so, what made her change it? Her circumstances certainly hadn't changed.

A nagging memory fought its way to the surface. A few weeks ago, she'd asked Rowan how to get out of the friend zone with Jordan. 'Should I just bang her there and then in the showers, like you would?' She'd jokingly asked her best friend.

Was that what Jordan was doing? Breaking through the friend zone barriers? And if so, to what end? What did she mean when she said she wanted to be more than friends? Did she just want to have sex? This sure felt like a very Rowan-esk thing to do, now that Megan thought about it. She could certainly picture her friend slipping into the shower with someone, fucking them, and then disappearing on them.

The thought of Jordan doing that to her made her feel sick. Granted, Jordan hadn't fucked her, but she may as well have, considering how personal and intimate this had felt. If sex was all she wanted, she'd have to go get it from someone else. No matter how hot Jordan was, Megan couldn't do that. It would tear her apart.

Fighting her nausea, Megan let the water run down her face again, as if cleansing herself from the experience she'd just had. She waited for what felt like an eternity until she heard the door of the changing room open and close. Jordan had left at last.

Megan couldn't face her now. She didn't trust herself. She honestly had no idea what she would do; what she should do. Right now, her head was filled with thoughts of Jordan playing her; just wanting her for a quick fling. Yet, she couldn't shake the hope that it was more than that. What if she really had changed her mind about wanting a girlfriend?

Competing thoughts and emotions kept rushing through her head like a whirlwind. And to think that she now had to head to the library to write an essay; how was she ever going to pull that off?

* * * * *

Jordan gave her mum and dad both a hug and a kiss and flopped down on the sofa with a satisfied sigh. She often visited her parents after her training on Sundays, so they had been expecting her.

"You look happy today. Anything you want to tell us?" Her mum asked curiously.

Jordan wasn't surprised her mum had picked up on her mood. She had been smiling all the way from the gym to her parents' house, drawing strange looks from the people on the train. Her dad gave a curious glance, bordering on suspicion.

"Not really. Just feeling on top of the world, that's all."

How could she possibly tell her parents about what had just happened in the shower at the gym? How she'd decided on a whim to take a bold step to show Megan that she was into her too. She had tried in vain to flirt with the girl and slowly win her over, but she'd started thinking about changing tack when she realised that Megan's wasn't budging. When she saw Megan's bag in the changing room and heard her in the shower, the idea had just materialised in her head. Flirting Megan didn't seem to notice, but this she was sure to notice.

Jordan grinned as she remembered how beautiful Megan had looked; how good it had felt to run her hands over her body; how readily Megan had responded to her touch.

"Alright. Well, I'm glad you are, sweetie." Her mum said, pouring her a cup of coffee.

"Jordan!" Her little sister Tasha came running into the room and cannonballed into her, before giving her a big bear hug.

"Hey monkey! Don't you know it's rude to jump all over people? The penalty for that is death by tickling!"

Jordan started tickling her, causing her to shriek excitedly, before running off giggling. "Catch me if you can," she shouted over her shoulder.

Jordan got up and chased her. Tasha had run into her bedroom and was hiding behind the door. Jordan made a little show of looking for her, before picking her up and throwing her on the bed.

"Death by tickling!" She shouted, as she vigorously started executing the sentence. Tasha giggled uncontrollably and wrestled to try to get away from Jordan.

Because of all this commotion, Jordan didn't realise at first that her phone was vibrating in her pocket. She trapped Tasha's trashing legs under her body and pinned her hands down with her knees.

"I'm not done with you," she said with a grin, before getting her phone out of her pocket. The display told her it was Megan calling. A surge of happiness rushed through her.

"Megan, hi!" She said enthusiastically.

"Jordan..." Megan didn't sound nearly as happy as Jordan had hoped she would be. There was a long pause before she continued, still in that same strained voice: "What the hell was that all about, Jordan?"

Oh, this was not good. Jordan got off Tasha and sunk down next to her on the bed. "What do you mean?"

Tasha, who hadn't picked up on her sister's sudden mood change, saw her chance for revenge. She launched herself at Jordan and buried her little fingers deep into Jordan's sides, where she knew her sister was most ticklish. Jordan was completely surprised by her move and couldn't suppress a giggle.

"Tasha, stop," she snorted, trying to catch the child's hands.

Encouraged, Tasha laughed and doubled her efforts. With another giggle, Jordan managed to catch both Tasha's hands in her free hand, and she gently slid out from underneath her sister.