Luca's gym is...loud.

My eyes go wide as Conner and I step inside, as I take in the dozens of people all working out. There three boxing rings spread out across the long room, and then at least fifteen large punching bags hang from the ceiling in the area to my left. Weaving in between them are a group of teenage boys, each concentrating hard as they punch the bag in front of them, being cheerfully yelled at by the man who is clearly their coach. Loud, heavy music pulses through the air, and no one turns to me as I come in.

Despite the fact that each of the rings is occupied with boxers sparring with each other or working with their coaches, my eyes go immediately to the middle one. Because I know Luca's form when I see it, and he's there, working alone with an older bald man who barks out orders as Luca punches the pads on his hands.

A smile breaks out on my face and I glance up at Conner, who's looking down at me. He gives me another wink and then raises his chin towards Luca, clearly suggesting that I move boldly forward. So I do, remembering my dad's words that I'm a Princess and a Sinclair, and that I was invited here today. Even if I do find this place intimidating as hell, there's nothing here I can't handle.

Luca concentrates hard in the ring as Conner and I walk over to it, coming to stand quietly ringside and watch him finish his exercise. Neither he nor his coach give any indication that they realize that I'm here, the coach continuing to shout commands and suggestions for Luca. At each one Luca changes something slightly, standing straighter, or hitting harder, or ducking more quickly.

I'm amazed, again, at how fast he is. I mean, I know that Luca is the national champion for a reason, but god he's impressive. Luca's hands move so fast that they're nearly a blur to my vision and I can tell by the way that his coach's hands snap back that each of his punches land with one hell of an impact.

I smile as my eyes move over my mate, taking in his tanned, sweaty skin, the lines of his torso as they disappear in to his cute boxing shorts. I raise my eyes to admire the line of his jaw, clenched in his determination, and the way the muscles shift in his powerful shoulders as he delivers punch after punch.

God, but he's hot.

And mine, the fact of which is its own personal thrill.

My smile deepens, and Luca flinches, a little bit, glancing to the side where I'm standing.

When he does, his coach reaches out and cuffs him, hard, over the head.

I gasp, but Luca just laughs as he stumbles to the side. "Okay, okay," he says, rubbing at his head and grinning at his coach. "You got me there - I was distracted."

"Better not get distracted tomorrow night," the coach mutters, gruff, clearly not happy about the fact that Luca lost his concentration. Then he flicks his eyes to me. "She'll be there, you know. I won't have her ringside."

"She's not gonna be ringside, she'll be in the box," Luca mutters, waving a hand dismissively at his coach before turning fully to me, a wide grin taking over his face as he comes to lean on the ropes of the boxing ring. "Hey!" he says, his eyes crinkling in delight as he sees me. "I'm so glad you're here! Just let me finish this workout and I'll -"

"You're done, you're done," the coach sighs, pulling the pads off his hands as he shakes his head. "You're tired, and you're not going to get any work done with her here anyway."

Luca grins at the coach before passively holding out his glove, palm up. The coach comes forward, reaching for Luca's boxing glove and helping him with the laces on his wrist. "Ariel, this is my uncle, Bruce Grant," he says, nodding to me and then to the burly man who I can now see has a passing resemblance to Luca, though far gruffer.

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