In the time that I’d been roped in to mop up this guy’s vomit, Cora was walking out of the changing rooms. She’d opted for a lilac gym set, shorts that showed off her snowy skin, her hair clipped back as best as the short strands could.
I walked over to her and dragged my top off, leaving only my black shorts and matching vest. I tried with everything I had in me not to catch the way that she was staring. But I did. Her attention was like a wildfire burning every inch of my skin.
I shook the thoughts free.
“So, what’s the plan? Training me with spy gear? Bit of sword play? Ooh! Do I get one of those cool bow and arrows like Katniss?” Her sudden giddiness faded as she traced the confusion on my face. “You know, from The Hunger Games?” I just blinked. And this was the most I’d seen her react in… well, ever.
“Oookay. When you get home, rent that movie, and the next, and the other two, and when you’re done with the series, knock on my door and thank me, okay?”
Her tone made me smirk, watching her talk with so much passion. I think she did it without realising. Which wasjust another one of the things I was adding to my list of reasons why this job wasn’t so awful anymore.
“Fine.” I smiled as I bent down to grab the boxing pads out of my bag, then the mitts. “But for now, it’s basic self-defence.” She caught the mitts as I tossed them to her. “Throwing a decent punch will buy you valuable time if you’re attacked and I’m not there.”
She stepped back, eyes on her mitts. “You really think I might be attacked. For real?”
I shrugged, sliding a pad down my hand. “I don’t want to chance it. If you aren’t, then great. But if whoever is stalking you decides to make an appearance, I want you to be prepared.”
Her nod was soft, like she didn’t want it to make sense, but it did in every way.
She strapped on the white mitts, stretching out her shoulders. “Well, what makes you think I can’t already throw a decent punch?”
I tightened the straps, pinching my skin. “There’s a decent punch, and then there’s—”
She cut me off with a jab, landing straight in the middle of the pad. It was decent. Enough power to knock down someone her size. But the threats I was concerned about weren’t her size.
And she didn’t know what to do next.
Because she wasn’t thinking, she left her arm outstretched long enough for me to grab it and tug her against me. She let out a quick yelp, the air leaving her as her back was flush against my chest.
My mouth was practically brushing her ear, which I hoped would drive home the message. “Like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, there’s throwing a hit like that, and there’s knowing what comes next, angel.” I tugged her tighter, my arm like a steel cage over her chest. “If I were attacking you, I’d have you exactly where I wanted you. Defenceless. Powerless. And as good as mine.”
I practically felt her shiver; whether it was with fear or something else, I couldn’t tell. Usually her eyes gave her away, but as she was looking everywhere but at me, they were a mystery.
“Is that what you want?” I asked, before her arm shoved mine, and she pushed away from me.
“No,” she rushed, her eyes on the mat as she stumbled for balance. “What do I do then? If I… If I want to have the upper hand?” Her eyes were everywhere but mine, and that told me more than searching them exactly how that little manoeuvre made her feel.
Fuck.
I tipped my chin at her. “Did I cross a line?”
Her eyes were on me in a heartbeat. “What?”
My head knocked to the side. “Just now. I’m sorry I didn’t think what that meant—”
“I’m fine.” She assured me, her eyes sharp. “Show me again.”
“What?”
She knocked her head to the side as she played with the gloves. “Well, if all else fails and I’m somehow in that position,how would I get out of it? Wouldn’t it be better for whoever was attacking me to thinkhehad the upper hand?”
I knew this girl was smart.
I nodded, still a little breathless. “Correct.” I knocked my head back. “Get back here.”
Slowly, she walked back up to me and settled her back against my chest.
But this time felt different. This timeIfelt tense.
