A chance

Rodri's POV

Hard rock music blasted deep into my ears, fueling each power pumped strike of my fists against the thick, leather punching bag. The heavy mass kept swinging with each hard lock and contact with my balled fists, and I fucking found it satisfying.

Especially when I pictured Benson’s fucking face on the punching bag.

That was more than enough motivation, even if I didn’t really fucking need it. I dragged in a deep breath, feeling sweat roll down the sides of my face, and I let the breath out slowly through my mouth. Feeling it go deep and through my chest.

Thump!

The loud sound of my punch hitting the punching bag echoed over the loud music in my ears, and the vibrations tore through the muscles of my right forearm. Another rivulet of sweat rolled down my back in my soaked gym shirt, reminding of how high my body heat had gone.

I paused to grab a bottle of water, then saw that the one closest to me was empty. I cursed under my breath and turned around to grab another one… bu