Bodyguard University: I Hate Loving You

Soft Hands

Porsche's POV:

I lapped up the water spouting from the water fountain spigot. It streamed down my chin and dribbled to my bare feet. The refreshing beverage simmered my lungs drenched in fire. Heaving, I flooded waves into my mouth until my shaking body pacified.

Since morning, I'd been grappling my opponents at the MA event and took them down like wind to grass. Still, there were so many back to back matches I could handle until I began breaking down. Thankfully, a bit of water was all I needed to be revived.

I had one final match before I'd claim my victory. While I was recovering in the hallway, the second to last match was occurring, determining the lucky bastard that'd be my adversary.

I stepped away from the water fountain and found a bench to rest on. Peering past the rows of lockers, I saw a student being praised by his parents. Fucking parents.

My dickhead of a father hadn't bothered to show up, not that I expected him to. That was our relationship. I'd slave away for a victory, notify him of my success, and watch him nod. I found it disturbingly bizarre that he had spent his hard-earned money ensuring I received the top training yet never admired the final product. Despite neglecting my matches, he always boasted about my winnings on social media. The closest I'd gotten to him saying, "I'm proud of you," was his post bragging to his friends about my achievements, which had created a discourse about whose son was better in the comment section.

Thoughts astray, I sensed a presence next to me. I snapped my head to see Sharp sitting upright, legs crossed, and grinning at me. I raised my eyebrows and jolted my head back in surprise. I swept my bangs out of my face and matched his posture but kept my legs spread apart.

"Hey, I didn't know you went here," Sharp said brightly.

Considering he wasn't wearing karategi, I assumed he didn't attend BU. Given my reputation, he would've been well-aware of me. Usually, I'd want him to know exactly who I was, but my recent scandals made me grateful he wasn't a student here.

"Yeah, do you go here?" I asked, already hearing the answer in the back of my head.

Sharp shook his head and pointed to the gymnasium doors down the hall. "No, I'm just here supporting my little brother."

"Who's your brother? I might know him," I said.

I couldn't think of anyone that resembled his winsomeness. Most of the guys here favored the looks of a naked mole-rat.

"I doubt it. He didn't make it past the first round," he said with a small laugh.

"Why're you still here then?" And who exactly was his brother?

"He wanted to stay and watch his friends. I had a feeling I'd find something interesting if I stayed," Sharp smirked and licked his lips. "And I did."

I bit my lower lip and felt my cheeks grow hot. I'd never actually flirted with a guy before. This was flirting, right?

"You're interested in me?" I asked shyly, my eyelashes flittering at the notion.

"I've always wanted to try caramel," he teased.

My heart blushed. No one had complimented me on my skin color. In fact, that was my biggest insecurity in grade school. Children didn't appreciate the flavors of our skin but tormented those that didn't appeal to their vanilla taste.

His joke was rather forward. I laughed awkwardly, not knowing how else to respond.

Sharp glanced down at my crotch and pinched the end of my black martial arts belt. "You've been quite the hot shot today," he remarked.