Chapter 3

I stared at the message on my phone screen: [Sugarpie, I miss you.] My fingers hovered over the keyboard, frozen.

I glanced up at the CEO's office through the glass wall. Ethan was bent over his desk, reviewing documents. His profile was all sharp edges and icy cool. He looked nothing like the sweet, clingy guy blowing up my phone.

Did he have a split personality or something?

I gritted my teeth and replied: [Fawn, aren't you busy at work today?]

As soon as I hit send, I regretted it. The tone was way too stiff, nothing like how we usually talk.

Right then, Ethan frowned slightly, his fingers flying over his phone screen as he typed out a reply.

My phone buzzed with a message. [Sugarpie, why are you so cold? Are you mad at me?]

He even added a pitiful little fawn emoji.

I stared at my phone. When I looked up, Ethan was already up and heading for the break room with his mug.

As he passed my desk, he paused for a second. "Wendy. Coffee," he said.

It took me a couple of seconds to realize he actually wanted me to make his coffee.

"On it, Mr. Locke," I replied with a forced smile, making sure to slam my keyboard extra hard as I stood up.

In the break room, I dumped three whole packets of sugar into his cup, scowling the whole time.

"This could give you a sugar coma," I muttered under my breath.

When I carried the coffee back to the office, Ethan was on the phone, his voice dripping with honey. "Yeah, I know. Okay, see you tonight."

My hand trembled, and I nearly spilled the coffee.

He hung up, and the moment he saw me at the door, his face turned back that frosty CEO look. "Put it on the desk."

I set the cup down and couldn't help but ask, "Got a date tonight, Mr. Locke?"

The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to bite my tongue off.

Why did I even care?

Ethan looked up at me, his gaze teasing and unreadable. "You seem awfully interested in my personal life."

"Just making conversation," I said.

Then I laughed nervously and bolted out of there.

Back at my desk, my phone buzzed again with another message. [Sugarpie, I have to meet someone super important tonight, so I might not be able to talk to you.]

I stared at the message, and that phone call from earlier popped into my head. Annoyance bubbled up inside me for no reason.

Seriously? Online, he called me Sugarpie all sweetly, but offline, he was just the cold CEO, bossing me around, and now, he even got a "super important" date tonight.

I typed back: [Whatever. Go do your thing. Don't mind me.]

After sending the message, I locked my phone and tossed it into my drawer.

*****

After work, I headed straight to my usual boxing gym.

"Why so fired up today?" Clyde Colbert, my coach, said as he handed me some wraps. "Is the punching bag your enemy?"

I bit down on one end of the wrap and mumbled, "Even worse than an enemy."

With my gloves on, I hammered away at the punching bag, letting all my frustration out. Ethan's cold expression and those messages from the sweet-talking Fawn were the only things running through my mind.

Finally, one solid punch made the bag rock hard with a loud bang.

"Not bad, Wendy," Clyde said, raising an eyebrow. "With that kind of punch, you might actually win the amateur match next week."

I pulled off my gloves, panting. "No way. I'm skipping it. I've been busy at work lately."

"Really?" Clyde snorted. "Last time, that guy who kept bugging you for your WhatsApp? I heard you beat him up and sent him straight to the ER."

I rolled my eyes. "He started it."

Just then, there was a stir at the boxing gym entrance. The girls started gossiping and whispering to each other, all excited.

I turned to look and nearly choked on my own spit.

There stood Ethan, dressed in a sleek black tracksuit, scanning the hall until his eyes landed on me.

"Wow!" Clyde exclaimed and whistled. "Who's that? A celebrity?"

I froze on the spot, watching him walk over to me.

"Wendy," Ethan said, stopping right in front of me. "What a coincidence."

Coincidence, my ass.

I tried to sound casual. "Here to throw some punches, too, Mr. Locke?"

He gave a slight nod. "I heard this gym is pretty good." But his eyes lingered on my reddened hands. "You come here a lot?"

"Sometimes," I replied, instinctively tucking my hands behind my back.

Clyde, as clueless as ever, chimed in, "Wendy is our Sharp-Tongued Queen around here. She made a guy bawl his eyes out just last week—"

"Clyde," I snapped, grinding my teeth as I cut him off.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Sharp-Tongued Queen, huh?"

I forced a laugh. "He was just joking."

"Is that so?" Ethan suddenly shrugged off his jacket, showing off a black tank top underneath. "How about a spar?"

My eyes widened. "Right now?"

"Why? Are you scared?" he said, his lips curling into a smirk. It reminded me of those pitiful emojis Fawn always sent me.

That kind of provocation always worked on me.

"Bring it on," I shot back, pulling my gloves on. "Just don't bawl if you lose."

People instantly crowded around to watch the show.

*****

Up on the ring, Ethan warmed up his wrists. "Rules?"

"Three minutes per round," I said, squaring up. "Just light sparring and not going all out."

He nodded, his eyes sharpening with focus instantly.

The referee blew the whistle, and I threw the first punch.

I popped off a left jab, and he dodged it like it was nothing. I followed up with a right hook, but he blocked it easily.

"Nice moves," he commented, totally unfazed.

I sneered and switched it up, sweeping low to knock him off his feet.

Ethan reacted fast, stepping back just in time and countering with a sharp jab aimed straight at my face.

He stopped his fist barely an inch from my nose.

"You..." I froze, totally thrown off.

That move was pro-level. There was no way he was just an amateur.

He pulled his hand back and said quietly, "You always drop your right shoulder. It makes it easy for someone to catch you off guard."

The crowd burst into applause.

I stared at him. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

"I did some practice in college," he said casually, glancing at his watch. "I gotta go."

He hopped off the ring, grabbed his jacket, and then turned back. "Wendy."

"Yeah?" I said.

"See you tomorrow," he said with a mysterious smile before walking away.

I was just standing there when my phone suddenly buzzed.

Fawn: [Sugarpie, I just met the important person I told you about.]

My heart skipped a beat. I replied: [Oh? So, how was it?]

Fawn: [She's really special. Not what I imagined at all.]

I gritted my teeth and hit the voice call button.

Suddenly, a ringtone echoed from the entrance of the boxing gym.

Ethan was standing there, his phone buzzing in his hand as he turned to look my way.

Our eyes locked right then.

He answered the call, and his deep voice came through. "Sugarpie."

Hearing his voice both in person and through the phone at the same time, I felt my mind going blank.

"You..." I said, totally at a loss for words.

Ethan strolled back over, stopping at the edge of the ring and looking up at me. "Guess your secret is out."

The crowd looked completely baffled, but Clyde, never missing a chance for drama, hollered, "Whoa, so you two know each other?"

With my face burning, I jumped down from the ring, grabbed Ethan by the wrist, and hissed, "Outside. Now."

*****

Out in the alley behind the boxing gym, I shoved him up against the wall. "Messing with me is fun for you, huh?"

Under the streetlight, his expression softened, nothing like that frosty CEO vibe from the office. "Who's really messing with who, Wendy? You're the one who ghosted me first."

"I never knew you were Fawn," I muttered, keeping my voice low. "Do you even know how close I was to losing my mind these past couple of days?"

He let out a low chuckle. "Same here." He reached out, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from my forehead. "So, can we finally meet for real now?"

I slapped his hand away. "No way. I'm quitting tomorrow."

"Not happening. I'm not signing off on your resignation," he murmured, leaning so close that his breath tickled my ear. "Sugarpie."

That nickname sent shivers down my spine.

"Online, I'm Sugarpie, but offline, I'm just Wendy," I said, shoving him away. "Wow, Mr. Locke, you really should win an actor prize."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you? All sweet and caring online, but offline, you go full beast mode on your boss."

I had no comeback.

After a moment of silence, Ethan sighed suddenly. "Wendy, can we talk?"

"About what?" I asked.

He paused and said, "About why you look way cooler boxing than I ever imagined."

What was wrong with this guy?