Worth the fight

Not even a little.” 
    Okay, so now I may be a little nervous.  I consider asking him what could happen if I move my feet, but my thought is fleeting as he pulls away from the curb and I find myself wrapping my arms around his waist in a death grip.
    After a few minutes, I start to relax.  Most of the traffic has passed and it’s a beautiful late summer night.  The wind hits my face and it feels exhilarating.  Freeing.  I loosen my death grip around Nico’s waist, and splay my hands around his abdomen.  For the first time, I’m relaxed enough to actually feel what is beneath my hands.  Solid muscle.  Not just firm and in shape like William, the kind of muscles that are ripped.   Swollen.  Deeply defined. They’re raised under his flesh and I want to move my hands around to explore better.  But I don’t. 
    We slow as we enter a neighborhood I ’m not familiar with.  I’ve never been to a restaurant in this area.  William and I tend to stick to the same restaurants, exploring new ones occasionally that he finds when a new Zagat comes out each year.    We crawl almost to a stop in front of what looks like a warehouse and I watch as a metal garage door opens.  It looks like a delivery entrance, but Nico steers the motorcycle under the slow rising door and it begins to close behind us.
    He turns the motorcycle off and takes off his helmet.  I follow his lead.  “Where are we?”  I look around the unfamiliar surro undings as I speak.  We’re in a garage, there is a large, dark colored SUV parked next to us and a few bicycles hang on the walls to the side.
    “My house.  Well, technically we’re in the gym down h ere, but I live in the loft upstairs.”
    I look at the SUV next to me as I do my best to unstraddle the bike in a ladylike manner.  It’s not an easy task to accomplish.  “Is that your SUV?”
    The sides of Nico’s mouth turn upwards in a hint of his devilish grin.  “Yes.”
    He takes my helmet , hands me my purse, and motions to the door.  “Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour before we go up.  Dinner is in the oven, but we have a little time.”
    I’m still absorbing that he is cooking me dinner and we are not going to a restaurant when I feel his hand on the small of my back as he begins to lead me into the main part of the building.   His large hand takes up half of my lower back and I can feel my skin underneath his hand sizzle.  The hair on the back of my neck stands up of its own accord, my body buzzing from a simple touch.  I don’t even think he notices my reaction.
    Nico flips a switch and the enormity of the room we entered comes into focus.  It’s the entire bottom floor of what was likely once a warehouse .  But now it’s a state of the art gym.  There is exercise equipment in one half of the space and the other half has what looks like two large boxing rings set up.
    “Wow.  This is really nice.  It doesn’t look anything like my gym.” 
    Nico chuckles.  “I doubt any of my clientele look anything like the people at your gym either.”
    I look at Nico confused and he explains.  “It’s a fighter’s gym, Elle.  It’s filled with men with tattoos and raging testosterone.  I’d hate to see what would happen in here if you walked into this place dressed how you probably look for the gym.”  Nico shakes his head and chuckles. 
    Oh.  I’m not sure if I should be offended or take his words as a compliment, so I choose the latter.
    After a few more minutes, we walk into a freight elevator and Nico pulls down a metal gate.  He inserts a key into the control panel and the elevator slowly ascends.   Nico lifts the gate and his hand is back on my lower back, as he steers me out of the elevator and into his loft.  It’s enormous, almost as wide as the downstairs. 
    At least half of the floor is a huge open space.  Off to one side is a sleek modern kitchen with stainless steel appliances.  There’s an oversized island and gleaming granite countertops that modernize the dark wood cabinetry beneath them.  The living area takes up the other half of the floor and has the largest sectional couch that I have ever seen.  I bet the couch can hold ten men. I notice it’s  strategically positioned in front of a large flat screen TV and I envision a bunch of guys sitting around watching fights.  A complete bachelor pad, but a very nice one at that.
    My nose catches a scent and I’m surprised.  “Chicken Franchese?”
    Nico