KNOCKOUT: An Opposites Attract Romance (Unlikely Matches Book 1) Read online

  KNOCKOUT

  -UNLIKELY MATCHES-

  BOOK ONE

  GABRIELLE SNOW

  Copyright © 2020 by Gabrielle Snow

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any similarity to actual people, living or dead, places, or events is entirely coincidental or fictionalized.

  Table Of Contents

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

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  PREVIEW OF FORBIDDEN ATTRACTION

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 1

  Azaria.

  “COME ON, RAFFY. BE quick on it. Use. Your. Speed!” I hollered from the corner of the ring as my seven-year-old trainees, Rafael and José, grappled for victory during their juniors’ MMA practice.

  “That’s it... and we’re done!” I excitedly announced. “Get off him now.” I patted Rafael on the back in an attempt to ease his disappointment from losing.

  “I should’ve grabbed his neck when I had the chance.” He shook his head, lightheartedly shaking José’s hand.

  “You wish,” José gloated with a big, victorious smile as he lifted up his chin.

  “Remember that next time you’re here.” I winked at Rafael. “Adios now.” I ruffled José’s black hair before both boys left the ring. “Kiss yo’ mamas for me.”

  “Thanks, Coach.” Rafael waved goodbye as they both walked out of the studio.

  Taking a deep breath, I began to pull the wraps from around my wrists as I marched toward the showers, nodding the occasional salute to my colleagues of trainers and attendants.

  Feeling lucky that the bathrooms were empty at that moment, I let out a long exhale while mechanically undressing. As I stepped into the shower, my hand pulled the faucet knob, letting the hot water pour over my head and body, loosening up my sore shoulder.

  This shoulder.

  I closed my eyes, the agony in my mind surpassing the pain of my injured joint.

  My thoughts went back to when I was twenty-seven, with possibly a decade of fighting still ahead of me. I remembered that fateful night when my entire career collapsed in an instant.

  Images of my relentless opponent vividly came surging on the insides of my tightly shut eyelids. For a moment, I could hear the crowds screams and smell the blood and sweat that had soaked into the ring.

  In one swift tackle toward the end of the match, I got a lock on my arm and dislocated my shoulder, tearing ligaments to a point of no repair.

  Well, almost.

  It was serious enough to force me to retire, losing all prospective for a real future in the realm of MMA fighting.

  One moment. One wrong move. And the future was bleak.

  That was two years ago.

  In my book, my current job sounded like one for those who could not do any better. Who lost their focus and had to pay for it. The losers who failed to make the cut.

  Without opening my eyes, I slowly turned around and pressed both palms against the wall, lowering my head as the splashes felt like pins and needles on my toned skin.

  Despite my best efforts, the demons in my mind pushed reflections of what could have been to the forefront, taking the spotlight as my train of thought went south.

  If only you had lived up to your potential, you wouldn’t have had to drag Mamá and Adelaide down with you.

  Because of you, poor Flora can’t afford to retire any time soon, and Addie is stuck scraping by at community college.

  Because.

  Of.

  You.

  Instinctively, my eyelids shot open and the shampoo seeped into my eyes, burning with a sense that I had only deserved it. Quickly blinking, I vigorously rubbed my face with my wet fingers.

  It was time to stop the mental self-flagellation and view things as they were.

  I had been busting my ass off training MMA talents of all ages at the downtown studio. And with the help of my mother’s humble income, I was doing my best to help Adelaide graduate with a college degree and accomplish what I never could.

  Wasn’t that good enough?

  Granted, if I had managed to go to college and get a desk job with a clear ladder to climb, things would have been easier. But dwelling on the past was not going to help me, nor was it going to put food on the table or pay the mounting bills.

  Angry at myself for, once again, letting my mind fall prey to self-deprecating deliberations, I clenched my jaws and reached out of the stall, violently pulling the towel.

  As I dutifully dried myself, carefully massaging my shoulder, I renewed old vows to myself to try and see things in a positive light. Nobody was perfect, and I was doing the best I could, given the circumstances.

  I got dressed with a reminder that I should be grateful to have a job at all. People like me easily fell through the cracks of unfair life every day, ending up with a prescription drug dependency from old injuries and loans that threaten to leave them on the streets.

  At least I had a sound head on my shoulders. Even if one of them was perpetually flawed.

  Walking home from the studio, I secured my trusty earphones in place as I always did while my steps covered the few blocks to our apartment building. Latin rap blasted into my soul while I knowingly mouthed the words, drawing in deep breaths as I watched the city bustle around me at sunset.

  The downtown block where I lived was nothing fancy, but it was home. Kids all around ran with their basketballs and scooters, smiling as I passed them by.

  We all knew each other’s faces around here.

  The eclectic assortment of residents always made me feel at ease. Modest people from all backgrounds and walks of life had assembled in that small, cozy spot to form a tight community of friends and accidental family.

  “Hey, Jamil.” I nodded to the friendly man who owned a little grocery shop downstairs before stepping in through the building gate and racing upstairs, looking forward to dinner with the family.

  As I slid the key into the door, I thought I heard a woman crying and figured it must have been a loud television somewhere.

  When I pushed the door open, my eyes immediately landed on Addie’s shrunken figure on the floor, hunched over something I couldn’t see.

  “Pollito!” I tossed the backpack onto a chair and launched forward. “What is it?”

  As my vantage point changed, I saw Tyson, our pit-bull, lying quietly on the cold tiles and refusing to move. His big eyes wandered about aimlessly like he had no reason to ever get up.

  “Dios mío, he hasn’t moved all day!” Addie regarded me with teary eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Is he dying, Aza?”

  My heart immediately dropped, but now was not the time to show vulnerability or scare my sister. This was just another moment for me to step up to the plate.

  “C’mon.” Scared beyond words, my hands carefully began to hold Tyson and he let out a brief whine, worrying me even more. “We gotta take him to the vet.” I turned to Addie who was frantically rummaging through her bag.

  “Addie? Carrier, now!” I urged.

  “Vale, vale!” she exhaled, quickly getting up and grabbing the crate.

  As soon as she b
rought it over, I gently lifted Tyson who did not attempt to cooperate, not even in the slightest. He left his whole body limp in my hands as I gradually sat him down in the crate and closed it without any objections from his side.

  What is wrong with him?

  My heart began to race.

  That was when Flora came out of the shower.

  “Qué tienes?” She dried her hair with a towel. “Where are you taking him?”

  “Tyson’s really sick,” Addie whined from between strained breaths.

  “No,” she drew it out, tilting her head as she approached. “Maybe just tired?”

  “Mamá, if he hasn’t moved all day, he needs to see a doctor,” I explained. “Looks like he’s in pain.”

  “Ay.” Furrowing her eyebrows, she put her finger through the carrier holes. “Tyson, you old dog. Pobrecito.”

  “Okay.” I decidedly lifted the carrier and straightened up. “C’mon, we gotta go before they close up.”

  “You’re not going to eat?” Mamá widened her eyes.

  “Vet’s gonna leave soon. Vamos, Addie.” I insisted.

  Hurriedly, we left the house with me clutching the carrier handle in one grip and my backpack in the other. As I tossed the bag backward, hanging the strap on my shoulder, I felt a slight ache and restrained my wince.

  Stress made any pain worse, that was common knowledge. What was not, however, was the fact that our usual clinic had already closed down by the time we arrived at the door.

  “No, no, no!” Addie began to panic, looking around in a frenzy.

  “Shush, we’ll find another one.” I quickly pulled out my phone from my pocket and launched an internet search for nearby vets. My eyes impatiently watched the screen as the page loaded. “Ah, see? There’s one a block away.” I exhaled in relief. “Vamos! We don’t have all night.”

  A few minutes later, we were standing in front of the veterinarian clinic to which the map had guided us. Without hesitation, I pushed the door open and stepped inside, slightly lifting up the crate as I addressed the woman behind the reception counter.

  “Hi. Please tell me you’re open,” I implored. “Our dog is old and we think he might be sick.”

  “Well, you’re in luck.” She smiled and nodded, standing up as she made her way around the desk. “We don’t close for another forty-five minutes.”

  Chapter 2

  Connor.

  ABOUT AN HOUR BEFORE the official end of my shift, I was at my office, settled behind the desk with the phone in my hand.

  I was done with all of the day’s appointments and thought it would be a good idea to text my friends on the group chat, asking if they would like to come over for a night of gaming.

  Ever since our college days, videogames were the thread that got us along and the glue that held us together. It was also my favorite social activity since it combined the mental stimulus and casual chats with old friends.

  I can be home in time for hotdogs and beers, I typed.

  Man, all you do is work and clutch that joystick, Adam responded. It’s about time you got yourself another hobby.

  Not that we don’t love game night, but I have to agree, Marc joined in. Your muscles are about to atrophy. How about you try and exercise for a change?

  Hey, wanna join me for a jog at the park tomorrow morning? suggested our fourth, Benjamin.

  Nah, I’m not much of a runner, I replied. But I’ll think about it.

  My friends were right.

  As much as I loved my precious routine, to the outsider’s eye, my life had hit a plateau.

  Everything was stagnant since my schedule solely revolved around my job and game nights with the guys. Except for the occasional birthday party or wedding, I couldn’t remember the last time I went out, let alone worked out.

  Tossing the phone on the desk, I got up and began to sanitize the shiny aluminum surfaces. My right hand grabbed the disinfectant spray bottle, while I held the cleaning cloth in my left.

  As I began to mindlessly wipe down the exam table, I mentally encouraged myself to count my blessings. I had the job I had always wanted since I was a child, and that alone should have made me happy.

  My mind went back to childhood summers when I used to go to Ireland with my family to help out on my grandparents’ farm. That was where I fell in love with animals and decided that I was going to become a veterinarian.

  Ever since, I had devoted most of my time to studying then work, leaving no room for romantic entanglements. Sure, I had a social life. It just wasn’t as rich as most people would have aimed for.

  Trouble was... almost all my friends were now in committed relationships. Some of them were married, some engaged, and one was on his way toward that as he had been with the same woman for the past three years.

  I had to face it.

  We were in our thirties and life had to take a different form. Over time, game nights grew less and less frequent, and we could only manage to meet on weekends now.

  Wondering what life was like in a long-term relationship, I recalled my last serious encounter of the sort.

  Scoffing to myself, I traveled back to the past in my head, examining how young and naïve I was... and so was she, with her innocent blue eyes and blonde angelic hair that flirted with cute, blushing cheeks.

  Oh, how the times had changed.

  Thirty-three was not exactly old, now, was it?

  But wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to share all of this with? My career was going in the direction I had wanted—better, even. I was getting paid more than most of my peers, thanks to my extreme focus on the job and dedication to hours nobody else would take.

  What could I say?

  I had nothing better to do and I absolutely loved what I did.

  Now, not everyone could say that. My good luck wasn’t something I could deny.

  Wiping down the side counter, I smiled to myself on the matter of luck as I thought about my family. My mother, Maggie, and my father, Owen, were the best parents anyone could wish for. My younger brother, Liam, was a younger version of me, only more outgoing.

  And my little sister, well, she was no longer little since her twenty-fifth birthday was right around the corner. She was a whole other story. Ciara lived life to the fullest, and always thought I was too uptight to be her brother.

  The running joke between us was that the universe took all of the fun out of me and poured it into her.

  We utterly adored each other. But was she right?

  Was I incapable of enjoying life?

  The bell above the main entrance rang through the air and into my ears, pulling me back to the current time and place. I heard Sarah’s voice in the waiting room telling someone that Dr. Kelly was available.

  Right.

  In preparation for the incoming patient, I took a deep breath to clear my head and placed the cleaning tools down on a shelf before making my way over to the sink to wash my hands.

  I heard a slight knock on the door before it cracked open.

  When I turned around with a small towel in my hand, my eyes landed on the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

  Her naturally tan body was reminiscent of sculptures of ancient Greek Goddesses... if holy deities went to war with their bare hands.

  She was wearing a black pair of yoga pants and a matching hoodie, fitted enough to accentuate her narrow waist and her...

  Dog.

  Mentally urging myself to focus on the patient at hand, I forced my eyes away from Miss Warrior and inspected the old pit-bull in the crate she carefully carried.

  “Hello,” I smiled, “what seems to be the problem?”

  “He’s refusing to move.” The grimness in her voice revealed how little she knew about old dogs. Her serious expression confirmed it.

  “That can be a number of things,” I said, trying to make my tone comforting. “Let’s have a look.”

  Gently receiving the carrier, I placed it down on the examination table and opened the door. Out of the corner
of my eye, I saw who I could only assume was the younger sister fidget and wince with every move I made.

  “You don’t need to worry.” I gave her a quick glance before expertly luring him out. “What’s his name?”

  “Tyson,” she responded.

  “C’mon, Tyson,” I addressed the poor thing who was clearly in pain. “We can’t be friends if you don’t shake my hand.”

  The sister tittered.

  Miss Warrior, however, was not exactly amused.

  Either way, I was doing my job.

  Feeling their eyes on me, I conducted the thorough examination to the best of my knowledge. It was a no-brainer, good old Tyson had been struck by bad old arthritis, a common condition among his breed.

  “Arthritis?” Miss Warrior exclaimed. “Is it curable?”

  “It gets better with treatment,” I reassured her as I grabbed my prescription pad and pen. “It doesn’t have to hinder his life, not if you follow the instructions I’ll give you.”

  As I settled behind the desk, my hand reached for the bill pad and I heard the ladies’ language shift.

  “Medicamento? Que haremos?” the younger one whispered.

  “Nosotras veremos, vale?” Miss Warrior’s frustration poured through her teeth as she lowered her gaze.

  “Y la factura también,” she nagged.

  “No te preocupes...” Exasperated, she discreetly showed her the credit card before concealing it in her folded hand. “Encontrare una manera.”

  Right.

  Keeping my eyes on the pads in front of me, I racked my brain for the Spanish I had learned as a second language in high school. While I couldn’t decipher the full extent of their hushed exchange, I could make out a few words that made me understand that they were not exactly well off.

  The younger one was wondering how they were going to afford this, while Miss Warrior reassured her that she was going to handle it somehow.

  Silently excluding my examination fee, I only billed them the clinic’s share which was a small percentage.

  Upon handing her the bill, I stood up and made my way over to the medication cabinet. I pulled out a number of pharmaceutical samples and handed them to the younger sister with a professional smile on my face.