He made a face as if he was casually impressed. “In the ring? Boxing? Martial arts? Wrestling? Do you want to maybe do it competitively, eventually?”
“Oh, god no,” I snorted, then let that thought settle a little before I thought that maybe I could compete for fun. “I want to learn to punch.”
He nodded slowly, “Like self-defense? Every girl should learn self-defense around here.”
“Really? Why?” I agreed with him because there were many bad people here, the sons and daughters of criminals, but I wanted to hear his reason.
“People can get tribal and territorial,” was his answer without going into details, but I knew what he meant.
“Okay, but…” The pounding against the punching bag in the background was really appealing to me. “Whichever one would get me fit and able to fight off someone.”
He exhaled as if he was frustrated by my lack of clarity. “I’ll set you up with a trainer who can teach you the basic self-defense techniques and go from there.”
“Okay, thanks,” I replied.
“I’ll have to book you with someone. Hang on,” he mumbled, tapping away on the keyboard. Then he pulled back from the screen, peeked behind the divider wall, and called out to someone. An exchange followed that involved grunting and jock talk.
He then returned to the counter and said, “Ez will take you through a few moves now if you want?”
“Ez? Not…” The tall, dark blond jock sauntered into the reception area and looked as if it was no surprise that I was here, and I realized that there was a large one-way window to the side that he would’ve seen me through. “Not him.”
“Yes. Me,” Ez insisted. “Just come out the back, Boleyn. “We’ll try a few moves and see how it goes.”
“Ah, no,” refusing to look at him. “Do you have anyone else?”
“C’mon, Boleyn, give it a shot,” Ezrah Warwick stated in that charismatic tone. God, I hated him.
“This won’t work.” One reason I wanted to learn how to fight was to defend myself against the Warwicks and whoever broke into my room.
“Yeah, it will,” he smiled, “just give it a shot, Adina.”
I looked to the reception guy for help, hoping he’d get out of this situation, but he looked away as if he wanted nothing to do with it. They were friends, I suspected, probably frat bros…vomit, judging by the familiar bro language they were using to communicate.
“No, thank you,” I turned my back to leave, then stubbornly stopped myself. I paid for my gym concessions, so I will use them without a trainer. Besides, it will be another ten minutes before the bus comes back around, and the Sports School was its own village far away from other schools.
Ignoring the towering, smirking Warwick, I asked Robbie, “Where are the changing rooms?”
“Ez can show you around,” he answered, mirroring Warwick’s beaming face. They’re both handsome men and could unhook a bra by just looking at a girl, and that only annoyed me even more.
“No, thank you,” I stormed past the towering infernos, only for Ez to block my path and point toward the double doors to the side.
“Wrong way,” he stated, suppressing a chuckle, and in three strides, he was at the double doors and opened them for me, like a gentleman.
My nostrils flared in anger as I held my head high in pride, refusing to look at him, but I did thank him, which was the way my mom raised me. It’s a shame she wasn’t around anymore because I’d ask for some advice on the Warwicks. Actually, if Mom were still alive, I wouldn’t be attending Castlehill; I’d still be at my previous and preferred college.
“Why are you following me?” I snarled as two pretty girls in tight yoga pants scrutinized us curiously, glancing between me and him, probably wondering why he was paying so much attention to me.Don’t worry, girls, we’re not friends. You can have him. Maybe you could take him away from me now, since he’s such a pain in the arse.
“Merely showing you the way, Ad-ina,” my name rolled off his tongue, and I shot him a sharp look for him to cut it out.
“Locker rooms here,” his big finger showed me the way.
“You’ll be gone when I get out, won’t you?” I demanded sternly. I wasn’t fucking around. I had my knife in my bag and I won’t hesitate to use it.
“Maybe,” he said casually, leaning against the wall, standing over me while his eyes traveled over my body differently from how Robbie looked at me.
“Maybe?” I screwed my face up. “Don’t be here when I get out.”
When he stepped inside the locker room, his voice followed, “I’ll be right out here when you get out.” Completely ignoring what I just said, or maybe he heard me, but wanted to show his dominance. Either way, he was a conceited asshole, but he seemed to enjoy annoying me, so I had to pretend he wasn’t.
