I smooth my hands over my yoga pants and matching jacket - courtesy of Monty when I told him I had no workout gear - which I’ve teamed with only a sports bra and my trainers. I’m not actually trying to seduce Sawyer tonight - my hair’s tied back in a messy bun and I don’t have any makeup on - this is just the most comfy outfit I have for grappling in. Form fitting clothes give the advantage of preventing your opponent from getting a grip on you. Apparently. It seems that no matter what I wear, Sawyer puts me on my ass every single time. Not tonight though.I lift my chin defiantly and stare at myself. I’m going to get what I want tonight; and tonight, the only thing I want from Sawyer, is answers.
I race to the gym knowing that, like always, Sawyer will be there first and we will have the place to ourselves. I run over so that I’m not late, and arrive panting hard.
“Oh good, you’ve already warmed up. Let's get started.”
“I suck at running,” I complain. “You’d think I’d be better at it, given my upbringing.”
“You’ve improved significantly in the last two weeks, and although your suspension is ending, our sessions are not. You’ll continue to make progress.”
Wow. For a moment I’m speechless; that’s the closest thing to a compliment I’ve gotten off Sawyer since he took our picture together and called me beautiful.
“Th-thanks,” I stammer, wrong footed by him being nice to me. I decide to make the most of this moment of harmony. “Can I ask you a question?”
“If it’s not against the rules.”
“How’s Slate?”
Sawyer hesitates and I can tell I’ve surprised him. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Why do you care?” he snaps warily.
“You said he drinks. That he wasn’t coping well…you know when.” I don’t want to push too hard and make him clam up on me again.
“He’s fine,” Sawyer replies through gritted teeth.
“Do me a favour, okay?”
“I don’t have to do you anything.”
“Just check on him. I don’t think he’s doing as okay as you think he is.”
Sawyer stares at me for a moment, assessing me like he’s trying to work out what I’m up to. Eventually though he gives in, nods once and points to the mats. Time to start work.
We start with a simple warm up and an easy defensive round of blocks. I’m definitely getting better, Sawyer is rarely able to get past my defences now in a routine like this. When it comes to actual moves though, I’m pretty useless.
“Good. Remember to keep your guard up. Let’s move on to attacks from behind.”
I think it’s pretty pointless - self-defence, I mean - as Sawyer always insists that my stance is just so, and he comes at me just right. How unrealistic is that? When is an attacker ever going to come at me slowly, with intent, and plant his hands in just the right place for me to be able to disarm him? Stupid.
“Focus, Amelie!” Sawyer chastises me as I fail to flip him over my shoulder as expected when he ‘attacks’ me from behind.
“I can’t do it! I’m too small.”
“You can. Focus.”
He attacks again and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t flip him. I do manage to grapple with him a little this time. I try to elbow him in the solar plexus, which works, but his reaction has him cuffing my cheekbone.
“Shit! I’m sorry!” He panics, grabbing my face and turning it to check the damage. My skin burns where his five fingertips touch my face. It’s like five small fires have been lit.
“You’re okay,” he tells me softly, remorse and something else in his eyes. “Let’s try something else. Let’s just grapple for a bit.”
I work up a sweat tangling with Sawyer. I’m too focused on my task of bringing him down to be turned on by the close bodily contact. Okay, so that’s a lie, but I’mmostlyfocused on beating Sawyer and not the heat of his shirtless tattooed body pressing against my exposed skin. Only, the way he moves against me has me thinking about what would have happened all those weeksago if Kalen’s stupid bloody call hadn’t interrupted us. Heat pools between my thighs, making movement uncomfortable. Probably should have worn underwear, but it’s too late for that now. Fuck, I want him. I’ve missed his touch so much. Kalen’s flirting is great and all, but I don’t want the promise of whatmighthappen; I want what I already know will be explosive.
Sawyer manoeuvres me into a choke hold whilst I’m distracted, and it doesn’t help with the wetness situation down south. I give a helpless whimper.
“Amelie, you have to work harder… You know, given the upbringing you claim to have had, with such a wonderful protective brother, I’d have thought you’d already know some of this.”
His words are a sharp stabbing pain in my gut. I pull out of his grip and stare at him in dismay.
