“Good. Tighten it up.”
“Yep, got it. I got it.”
“Now you want to hit right around here.”
He tilted he head back, to reveal the long stripe of his suddenly vulnerable looking throat.But she didn’t think about any of that. She didn’t think about anything aside from the work they were doing.
“Seewhere my Adam’s apple is?Go below that, but when you do make sure you’re aiming up. Hit from the elbow, so you’re disguising that shoulder move. Like we talked about with the handshake, remember?”he said, and she listened. She took the information in.
There was nothing more going on here. Nothing.
“I remember. I have no idea if I can do what you’re asking, but I remember.”
“You can do it. You just have to get the technique right, and then practice.”
“Technique and then practice. Got it. Sort of. Maybe.”
“Here then, I can show you. Can I touch your arms?”
As soon as he said the words,she kind of wanted to tell him not to.
But the problem was: what reason could she possibly give? She didn’t want him to think she was frightened, because amazingly there was no fear in her.And there was no way she was going to tell him about the conversation with Letty. She wasn’t even sure why it was relevant or what made her think of it.
It was just there in her head, the moment he asked.
She had to shake it off, so she could give him her yes.
And she succeeded, too. She didn’t think of anything, when he curled those big, strong hands around her biceps. Her mind was a total blank as he guided her into position, voice as soft as butter, manner so carefulit sent her insides her singing. Really, she had no idea why everything started to feel sort of slow—like she’d fallen into syrup, thick and warm and sweet. All she knew was that it happened. That she went to raise her gaze to his as he guided her into position, but couldn’t do it at normal speed.
Then their eyes met, and everything got even weirder.
Suddenly, she was dizzy and way too warm—and that feeling only intensified as he instructed her how to punch. “You do it from the elbow not the shoulder,” he said, and then he moved her arm. He showed her exactly how and where and all the while he was talking about taking time to build up her strength and practicing until she was slick with sweat.
Why did he have to say slick? Why did he have to say sweat?
The wordssoundedinnocuous. But they didn’tfeelit.
They felt like she had the first time she’d seen him: Queasy and weird—and almost desperate to change the subject. Crack a joke, her mind hissed at her, but it wasn’t until he suggested she would soon be able to hit him that she found the right words.
“Somehow, I think actually hitting you is going to take way more than a few weeks of practice punching. Might have to hold on until the year three thousand when mankind invents time travel. Then I can go back to the second before you move and still fucking miss you,” she said—and it worked, too.
Especially when he dead panned in return.“I promise you, I cannot get around time travel.”
“Fuck—yousound like someone trying to cover up a lie.”
“No honestly. I swear. I am unable to contravene the laws of space time.”
“Oh my god, that one was even worse. Tell me honestly, have you come here from the distant future?”
“If I had, I doubt I would be here trying to teach you how to protect yourself. I could just tell you with all certainty how to be completely safe from here on in.”
“Screw the self-defense. Can we just do that one instead?”
“Sure.Just close your eyes, and I’ll be right back.”
He said the words very casually. Almost off hand, as if he was talking about the weather.So, it was weird that they hit her so hard. For a second, it actually felt as though he’d gut checked her. And even worse: that queasy feeling was back.
She had tojam a laugh into her voice just to push it back.
