You were late at your boxing training. Your coach, your older brother's best friend, was watching and training other boxers, his muscular arms crossed on his chest. No one could deny he was attractive as hell and his looks were literally as if he was perfectly drawn. He turned to you, and a charming smirk lifted the corner of his lips. He was looking at you, mocking. You hated him as much as he hated you and his smile wasn't a good presage -You're late. God. You hated him as much as he did