“She-wolf.” Wolfman shares his moniker.
I step back and shake out my arms. Then I peek over at Karson, who is rolling to his feet with a hand from Drew. He dusts himself off and glances at me long enough to give a small shake of his head that appears to be as disbelieving as it is impressed.
I shrug. “You told me to focus.”
The class cracks up.
Drew sends his giant smile my way. “And that’s how it’s done, folks. Now we’re going to move on to choke holds.”
Karson pops his knuckles. “Let me at her,” he says.
But he’s grinning, and my classmates chuckle, so I know it’s a joke. It’s almost as if we’re friends. This feeling is better than being smitten or being rivals. It’s only taken four weeks to learn to get along.
And just like that I realize it’s my final class on the police academy side. Next week we’ll be spraying fire hoses or something. I approach Karson as my partner. For the first time, the only resentment hovering between us is my resentment of having to say goodbye.
“Face off.” Drew demonstrates with Wolfman as he instructs us. “One of you wrap your fingers around the other’s throat.”
I use my scrunchy to gather my hair, revealing the neck Karson’s been longing to wring. “Is this the moment you’ve been waiting for all month?”
“Not yet.” His expression softens enough for his lips to turn up. “I’m going to have you try to strangle me first, so I can demonstrate how you escape.”
I take a deep breath of his spicy scent. “Okay.” Stepping close enough to reach him with both hands, my thumbs meet at the front of Karson’s throat. The rest of my fingers circle against the prickles of hair at the base of his skull, though they don’t touch. He’s not much taller than me, but he’s thicker. And by thicker, I mean muscular. I feel his pulse throb under my touch and take another moment to swallow before lifting my gaze to his. “Like that?”
His Adam’s apple bobs against my thumbs. “Perfect.”
I search his eyes like a dictionary to see if his use of the word “perfect” might have had more than one meaning. But they remain as steely as a safe.
“Now.” Officer Harris vies for our attention. “If you’re being choked, drop your chin down to make it harder for your attacker to squeeze your neck. Go ahead and give yourself a double chin.”
Karson quirks a light eyebrow before dropping his chin. His stubble scrapes the back of my hands, and we remain in this position even though he knows what to do to escape it.
“From here,” Officer Harris’s voice booms, “you’re going to use all your body weight against your attacker’s weakest point—their thumbs. Step back with one leg, lean forward to break their grip, and duck under one side of their arm to pivot away.”
Before I can even picture the process in my mind, Karson is free, and I’m grasping air. “Hey.”
He pivots back. “Think you can do that?”
“I don’t know. You told me you were going to demonstrate, but you just disappeared.”
“Here.” He grabs my wrists to bring my hands back to his neck. His fingers don’t slide away immediately, and his eyes meet mine and linger. But before I can get lost in the look or even question the touch, he’s all business again. “Squeeze harder.”
I adjust the position for a better grip and try not to use my fingernails. He pulls another Houdini.
Then he’s back with his hands around my throat. It’s not painful. He’s not squeezing tight enough to hurt me. Just to hold me.
I should be able to break away as easily as he did. I step and duck. His thumbs don’t budge. Well, except to poke my trachea.
“You forgot to stiffen your neck,” he coaches.
That’s right. I reset and take a deep breath. I pull my chin in, step, and duck. My head bumps his forearm.
“Duck lower.” He slides his finger around my neck again and grins as though he’s holding a trophy.
“You’re enjoying this too much.”
“You’re right about this being the moment I’ve been waiting for all month.”
I give a few practice neck-stiffenings. “That’s actually not what I was talking about.”
