Her breathing hitched at the contact.
I slid my hand up to her shoulder, feeling the tension knotted there. “You’re trying to control the outcome instead of the moment.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine. Bright. Frustrated. Wet around the edges in a way she clearly hated.
“I don’t want to freeze again.”
The words landed heavy between us.
I studied her for a beat. The tension in her shoulders. The way her fingers flexed like she was already bracing for something that hadn’t happened yet.
“Okay,” I said. “Then we don’t practice easy.”
Her eyes flicked up. “What does that mean?”
I didn’t answer. I stepped in.
Not fast. Not rough. Just close enough that she felt the change in air, the shift in space. Close enough to matter.
Her breath caught.
“Hands up,” I said.
She lifted them automatically, stance still wrong but determined. I circled her once, slow, letting the silence stretch.
“You know I’m going to take you down,” I said calmly.
Her jaw tightened. “You don’t know that.”
A corner of my mouth twitched. “I do.”
That earned me a flash of heat in her eyes.
Good.
I moved.
Not a full attack but a controlled entry. My hand caught her wrist, the other hooking her elbow as I stepped into her space and started to turn her.
I felt it immediately.
The hesitation.
Her body stiffened. Breath locked. That familiar edge of freeze hovering right there.
“Hey,” I said, low and sharp. “Stay with me.”
Her feet faltered.
I leaned in, voice right by her ear. “Push through it.”
“I—”
“Now, Amanda.”
Something snapped.
Not panic.
