Beware of Boys by Kelli London Page B

waiting to take a hit. Charly obliged him, quickly bounding toward him and punching him in an arm that felt like steel.
    â€œOww.” He feigned hurt, then rubbed his solid bicep where she’d connected her dainty fist. “I guess I better be careful. I saw the video of you beating up Mkel online, so I know you’re not to be played with. Why you have to be so hard on my boy? You know he’s a pretty boy. He’s the lover, I’m the fighter,” he teased.
    Charly rolled her eyes, dismissing the video. “So you had me run because you just wanted to see me sweat, and admire me in these . . . these clothes, if you can even call them that?” she asked, deadpan. The T-shirt and shorts she wore were purposely faded and looked toddler sized. She pulled on the bottoms, making them snap back against her skin, then adjusted the shirt that read TEAM “GOLDEN BOY” LEX across her chest in stylish, funky blue letters. Her eyes moved down to her feet. “I see someone likes to see his name in print. But I gotta admit I like the sneakers. I’ll definitely rock these again. Can’t say the same for these baby clothes though.” She shook her head. “You should stick to boxing; fashion is not your forte.”
    Lex painted his face with hurt. He held his hand over his heart, dropped his head, then gazed up at her with golden eyes—the same liquid golds that had earned him his nickname. “Whaddya mean? You don’t want to be on my team, Charly?” His question was laced with flirtation, but the real interest behind his words was obvious.
    Charly sauntered past him, allowing the slope of the hill to move her faster. “I don’t do teams, Lex. I’m a one-woman show. I thought you knew,” she spat sassily, meaning every word.
    â€œOh, I know. That’s why I said it and made the bet,” he mumbled under his breath, apparently thinking Charly hadn’t heard him. “A one-woman show? Is that right?” he asked in a louder tone, catching up.
    â€œNo, Lex. Not just right, one-hundred,” she said, making it clear that she was one-hundred percent on the up-and-up with him. She tried to keep her hips from swaying so hard, but the steep hill was making it difficult not to do so. She stopped, then turned. “Let’s get something clear, Golden Boy. I may be in the company of one of the greatest fighters of all time, but you, you’re finally in the company of equality. I’m afraid we weren’t properly introduced,” she said, extending her hand. “Let’s start over.”
    Lex’s golden eyes danced and he nodded. He took her proffered hand, dwarfing it in his huge one. “I’m Lex, better known as Golden Boy,” he said with more than a little ego puffing his demeanor. “But you, pretty, pretty Charly, the one-woman show, can call me Lex.” He bit his bottom lip and raked his eyes up and down her frame.
    Charly stood on tiptoe to reach his chin, then pushed it up until his eyes were focused on her face instead of below her neckline. She shook his hand. “And you can call me Charly, better known as Your Match, and not your match like I’m the perfect fit for you as in mate or girlfriend or whatever. I’m your match as in your worthy opponent.” She winked, nodding her head, then smiled because she’d used mate, the word Liam used to refer to friend. Here she was all the way in Las Vegas with an incredible guy like Lex, and Liam had still found a way to slip into her thoughts.
    Lex bit his bottom lip again, and Charly thought she was going to pass out. She questioned how she was going to make it through the day keeping her professionalism. He was just too fine, too chiseled, too tempting. “I accept the invitation, Charly baby.” He winked, almost making her melt from his flirting. “I don’t care if it’s on the phone, across the dinner table, working out, any