Page 25 of Dirty

He rubbed the side of his nose with his index finger, and I noticed the back side of his hand was covered in scars. Surprised that I hadn’t noticed before, my eyes followed as he lowered it to his side.

“What happened to your hand?”

He rubbed his palm against his knuckles. “What do you mean?”

“It looks like…” I shrugged. “Like it was…like you were in an accident or something.”

He looked embarrassed. “It’s from fighting,” he said.

I couldn’t imagine a side of him so eager to fight. He had a calm demeanor, was polite, and contrary to his massive size and rough exterior, was rather calm. “Holy crap,” I said. “You’ve been in so many fights that your hand’s all scarred?”

He shrugged. “I boxed for years.”

“Without gloves?”

He laughed. “Yeah, that too. Still do, sometimes.”

“Box? Or fight without gloves?”

“Without gloves.”

I was intrigued. “Why?”

“Not sure.” The look on his face matched his response. “Maybe for the thrill. I don’t know.”

“Huh.” I imagined him fighting in the back yard of a run-down house in the barrio with a crowd of people gathered around, all waving wads of cash in the air. “I’d like to watch you sometime.”

He shook his head. “Not a place for a girl to be.”

I arched an eyebrow and shot him a sideways look.

He grinned a slight grin. “Not a place for most girls.”

I motioned toward the door. “Want to come in?”

“Where’s your mother?”

I stepped onto the porch. “Working late.”

“I can stop by some other time--”

I felt like I was in a competition with my mother for his attention, and I didn’t like it. After their mad dash to get more liquor, she seemed to cling to him for the rest of the night.

We exchanged several glances throughout the night, but with my mother at his side there was never a time I could speak to him privately.

“Did you come by to see her, or to see me?” I turned around and waited for him to respond.

His lips parted slightly but he didn’t speak.

“Well?”

“I just…I came by…to see…” he stammered.

I cocked my hip playfully. “Do I make you nervous?”

He chuckled and stepped onto the porch beside me. “Maybe a little bit.”

Pleased with his response, I turned and walked into the living room. As I sat down on the couch, he shut the door and sat in the chair beside me.