First Date

We kept talking for hours—about sports, music, our personal lives, our tastes in food, and details about ourselves—without worrying about keeping anything hidden, and we only became aware of the passing of time when evening fell and the streetlights and the lights from the nearly closed café were the only things illuminating our table.

I paid the check and started walking her home.

“You know, I’ve been training even harder sinceour match,” she confessed, with a proud little smile.

“Oh, really?”

“Yep. I decided to look more into the things you taught me, and I’ve been taking online courses and following tips to improve. At my local gym I’m the best now. I hadn’t realized how little the others actually knew about real boxing.”

I nodded and smiled, a mix of pride and cockyness. I knew I was an excellent boxer, and now I considered myself a perfect teacher as well.
“But…” she continued, her smile widening, like when she was thinking about naughty things. “It would be better if I had a real coach to train and spar with…”

I could feel her provocative gaze looking up at me, so I turned to face her with equal mischief. “I don’t know if your new boyfriend would be okay with a coach. Maybe I should train you myself.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad, except for the fact that I’ve already beat you,” she said in a clearly playful tone, but with a sidelong glance that concealed an unquestionable certainty. In our match, she had won; I had lost.

We kept exchanging playful, mischievous glances, flirting with our eyes and with quick, teasing remarks, until we reached her apartment.
She opened the door and went inside, and I started to follow her, but she stopped me with a finger on my chest.

“No, no. It’s just the first date, handsome. Don’t be so hasty.” I thought she was joking and took a step forward, but she placed her hand on my chest and pushed me back, lingering there to feel my biceps with her palm. I even felt a slight squeeze.

“I want to do things the right way,” she told me, struggling not to bite her lip in excitement and hesitating to pull her hand away from my muscular chest. It seemed ridiculous to me, considering we’d already had the wildest, most violent, and most passionate sex ever in the ring just a week earlier, but apparently she’d made up her mind.

“We can meet tomorrow at my gym—the one I showed you on the way here.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Good.” She said goodbye by standing on her tiptoes and planting a peck on my lips. Despite that, I was super turned on—and above all, happy. I felt fulfilled, satisfied, and for the first time in days, in control of myself and my emotions.

And most importantly, I now had a girlfriend. The most beautiful girl I had ever know.