“Angles,” I say roughly, stepping back. “You misjudged the angle. Let’s do it again.”
We run it. Again. Again.
By the fifth time she’s slipping out of my grip clean, turning herself into a knife and a bolt of lightning.
“You’re good at this,” I tell her.
“You sound surprised.” Her cheeks are flushed with exertion, eyes bright.
“Nah, I’m worried,” I correct. “Good at this means you’ll start picking fights on purpose.”
Her mouth quirks. “You say that like it’s something new.”
“Okay, moving on. Second scenario,” I cut in. I need distance. Structure. Anything but the feel of that small body slamming into mine. “Wall pin. I feel like this is the most likely one for Henry. He likes control. He’s not going to drag you into an alley if he can press you against something and watch you squirm.”
“Fantastic,” she says, but there’s a thread of fear behind it. “Show me.”
I walk her backward until her shoulders hit the barn boards. Her breath fogs faintly in the winter air.
“In this scenario, you want your hands up,” I say. “Palms out. You’re building a frame, not clawing his eyes out. Claws are for later.”
She lifts her hands, palms resting lightly against my chest as I step in.
Too close.
I plant my hands on the boards beside her head. My body cages hers without actually touching.
It doesn’t matter. My nervous system is convinced.
She has to tip her head back to meet my eyes. Her throat is exposed. Her pulse is a frantic flutter.
“Tallulah,” I say quietly. “You with me?”
“Unfortunately,” she whispers.
The confession lands between us, hot and dangerous.
“On my mark,” I say, because I have to get this back on script, “you drop your weight, pivot your hips, and drive your knee into me. Hard as you can. Then you run. You do not stay to see if I’m okay. You do not apologize.”
“Right,” she says. “In theory. In practice, my brain is…misfiling.”
“What kind of misfiling?” I ask, even though I know.
“The part where you’re very close,” she murmurs, “and I’m not scared ofyou, which is confusing, and also my body thinks this is…interesting.”
Heat punches low in my spine.
“Re-file it,” I say, voice flat. “Just for this. You can be confused later.”
“If thereisa later,” she mutters.
We are not talking about later. Later is a place where Kael’s threats and my own rules might not apply.
If we earn it.
“On three,” I say. “One. Two—”
On “two,” she drops and drives her knee up like I told her.
