The Look of Love by Crystal B. Bright Read Free Book Online Page A

course.” Gunnar disconnected the call and then immediately called Thane.
    After the fourth ring, Thane’s voice mail kicked on to Gunnar’s disappointment.
    “Thane, it’s Gunnar, again.” He tried to keep the growl out of his voice, but his baby brother’s attitude wore down on his last nerve. “Calling to let you know about Mom if she hasn’t called you already.” He thought about leaving a message about her condition and that Thane would need to take care of the clothing shop, but he decided that if Thane wanted to know, he would have to call Gunnar. “Call me back and I’ll tell you what’s going on.” He paused and took a deep breath. “She needs us, man.”
    Gunnar disconnected the call. Before he did anything else, he fixed the queen-size bed, including covering the four pillows with pillowcases. He walked toward the bathroom that came complete with a full-size bathtub and shower.
    Before stepping inside, he braced his hands on the doorframe and thought about everything, about his mother, his brothers, and especially about Eboni.
    He dove into his bag and pulled out a roll of tape. He taped up his knuckles on both hands. Despite the slight bit of pain, he needed to work out some aggression.
    Gunnar stomped back downstairs to the garage area. He had to thank his mother for getting the smaller car since it now gave him additional room to work on the heavy bag that hung next to it.
    The black bag suspended on chains didn’t move until Gunnar put his hand on it. The familiar training device felt stiff under his touch. The cold air had hardened the leather. Good. The harder the obstacle, the more it would punish him.
    He started punching the sack. The thudding sound echoed off the walls. His heavy panting accompanied the sound of his fists connecting to the bag. His heart pounded, but with the thoughts of Eboni on his mind, he wondered if the workout or Eboni had a hand in his excited state.
    “I need to be here for Mom,” he said in between punches. “Have to keep my head on straight for her and not think of anything else.”
    Gunnar curved his body and landed an uppercut shot on the heavy bag. Like when he’d trained on the bag as a teenager, he attempted to get out all his pent-up feelings. Then he would take his shower, change, and go to the salon. With it being Monday, it wouldn’t be open.
    “Got to get things together. Have to keep the family together.” Gunnar huffed between each word.
    He fought through the pain of his tightening back. He got on the balls of his feet, as much as he could in his heavy boots, and he hopped around the bag, throwing jabs as he kept moving. He felt the burn in his butt and thighs, and he liked the sensation. The feeling meant that he pushed his body.
    When he thought of his body, Eboni’s form came to mind, or rather her new figure. He wished he hadn’t seen her again, not here, not now. Too many memories came flooding back.
    “Can’t. Think. Of. Eboni.” His punches became harder, like he wanted to put his fist through the bag. “Can’t. Think. Of. Her. Body.” His body trembled. “Work. Then. Go.” Sweat rolled in his eyes. If he kept up this intense pace, he would have to go outside to cool himself off. “Stay strong. Don’t think of touching her. Don’t think of--”
    Gunnar turned to the side door when he caught something in his peripheral vision. Eboni stood in the side doorway. She stared at him with her arms crossed over her chest. Her breathing matched his, heavy and ragged.
    “Don’t think of what?” She stepped into the garage and closed the door behind herself.
    Gunnar kept himself on the other side of his punching bag. He wanted to claw off his sweatshirt to relieve the heat. He feared with his recent monologue that he’d exposed himself enough today.
    “I want us to talk about the center.” Eboni stalked him, never removing her stare from him.
    Gunnar had almost forgotten about her stubborn streak. He knew she wouldn’t give up