Tommy was losing and it had everything to do with the woman sitting in the front row next to the ring. His promoter's daughter, shy and plain, all the things he didn't like.

For as long as he'd known her and her father there was never talk of her having a date or even seeing a fella. Tommy remembered on one occasion Clarence hinting that Tommy should take her out. Like hell he would!

She watched him during practice nearly everyday, and acted like it was her job to dry the sweat from his brow and empty his spit bucket. Her father seemed to ignore the fact that it wasn't proper for her to be around half naked men. It wasn't right for a lady to see such things like that but Clarence didn't seem to mind.

Clarence paid little attention to what she did in her free time now that it seemed like she wouldn't be snagging a husband, but Tommy knew better. He'd seen the way she looked at him and heard how gentle she spoke to him compared to any of the other lads.

She didn't want just any husband. It was plain as day that she wanted Tommy, at least that's how he saw it. She was always doing something for him. She'd bring him biscuits hard enough to break teeth and she'd started wearing perfume.

Not the good kind either, it was something that'd make you think of your Nan's Yardley's lavender water. There was a stark difference between her and the women he liked to entertain. He liked passionate, beautiful women, she had none of those things.

But he'd never been rude to her and occasionally in the right lighting she didn't look so plain. Since when in God's name did I start thinkin' that?

His thoughts were cut short when he felt a fist connect with his jaw, the pain shooting up past his temple. He stumbled back a little. He'd prepared for weeks for this fight and she was ruining it.

It was the last round and he could hardly swing. His arms were heavy and aching. The crowd was yelling and shouting his name in a sea of cigarette smoke. Sean was at the side of the ring telling him to move his feet like he wasn't trying to.

His vision was blurry when he glanced to his right. Only to find her right next to Sean. Does the girl have nothin' better to do? She was probably the only lady in here.

He rolled his shoulders trying to loosen up. His could hardly think straight. He weaved around looking for an open shot when he found one, right on the chin. His fist collided with the boxer's chin. He could feel his jaw go slack. That lads finished.

Tommy didn't have the energy to smile. The man's body stumbled against the ropes and for a moment when he didn't fall Tommy was sure he'd have to hit him again, but slowly the man sagged down to the mat, and the crowd burst into cheers.

Tommy felt a wave of relief hit him. The referee was counting down looking for the man to get up. When he didn't Tommy felt his arm raised up in victory. Then Sean and Clarence were in the ring patting his back and holding him.

His vision was starting to get spotty as he felt the fire run out of him. He sagged against his brother barely able to stand. "I'll not be standin' much longer." He warned as his vision went dark and the noise began to fade.

The next thing Tommy felt was the soft give of his mattress beneath him. His cheek pressed against the cotton pillow. There was a light breeze on his back from a cracked window.

His left arm dangled off the bed almost touching the floor. His body ached from the abuse of last night. A sound of rustling towards the kitchen caught attention. His eyes stayed shut but his brows furrowed.

What in God's name is that racket? It wasn't his mother she would have already been nagging him about the fight, and it wasn't his brothers since he hadn't had a cold poured down his back yet.

He shifted a little realizing he had nothing on beneath his blanket. who's the eejit always leavin' me bollock naked?

He heard the shuffle of feet coming into the room and his eyes fluttered open. One was practically swelled shut but the other one could make out a figure that was approaching him.

Mother o' divine, what am I lookin' at? He sat up instantly, shifting to wrap his blanket around his waist tightly. Holy mother, don't tell me the girl's had a look at me pecker."What're ye at, girl? I've not me drawers on! 'Tisn't proper for ye to be standin' there while I'm bare!"

He was trying not to blow his top, but by god she was turning out to be the most trying woman he'd ever met. "Have ye no shame about ye at all?"