When I remind him that I did just that in a London nightclub, to not one but two men, he laughs and says it doesn’t hurt to learn more.
“Okay Sydney, arms like this,” Damien says as he positions me opposite the ring from Drew.
A small audience has gathered to watch Drew’s trainer and friend, Damien Spader, teach me how to drop Drew onto the mat. Since we’re not doing real sparring, we don’t have to put on all of the protective gear that the guys normally wear. I’m glad, because the gear stinks to high hell, but I’m also a tiny bit annoyed because now the entire gym can see our faces. Damien and Drew both swear that no one here will record anything that happens inside this building. Some sort of MMA guy-code or something like that.
I stand opp osite Damien as he instructs me. “Drew, come at her like an attacker. Sydney, when he does, jam this hip into his gut and pull him by the shoulders over your body and to the mat. Watch.”
Damien stands upright and motions for Drew to rush at him. He does the move exactly how he described it and Drew goes over his head and crashes on his back next to me.
Holy shit!
Drew pops up off of the ground as if nothing happened and goes back to his original position. Damn, he looks so hot right now. He’s wearing black and green fighting shorts and nothing else, no shoes, no gloves; I’m practically salivating onto the mat.
“Ready?” Damien asks me. I nod and stand still, waiting for Drew to attack. Damien motions for Drew to start and he comes at me, but stops before he gets close enough for me to touch him.
“Why did you stop?” I ask.
“I can’t,” he says to me. “I can’t attack you, it’s… it’s just not something I’m comfortable with.” Drew puts his hands on his hips and turns away.
“Here, we’ll switch places,” Damien says. “I’ll be the attacker.”
He moves to the other side of the cage and gets into a crouch.
“Ready?” he asks me.
No not at all. “Yep, ready.”
Damien ’s muscled and tattooed body comes at me and I hip check him in his abdomen and grab his shoulders, flinging him over my body and onto the mat.
Wow .
“That was great,” Drew says proudly, giving me a quick kiss. Our impromptu audience claps and cheers for me.
“Alright assholes, get back to training,” Damien says to everyone, waving them off. The group of fighters disperses and the usual background noise of grunts and punching starts up again.
The guys show me a few Krav Maga moves, which mostly seem like coordinated eye poking and testicle kicking. They assure me that it will work on an attacker, so I learn everything they show me. After an hour I’m wiped out, so I step out of the cage and let them punch the crap out of each other. Something I know Drew has been dying to do since he heard about Kiera.
Now that I have a few minutes of downtime, I start thinking about the whole mess with Kiera Radcliff. She’s just flat out psychotic. When I piece together the dates given to me by the FBI this morning with the timing of everything else going on, it all makes sense. The death threats started coming after Drew told her off at her hotel and came to London to be with me. She knew at that point that she was never going to get him and it completely unraveled her.
My God, she was probably planning this from the second she was cast opposite Drew. She dumped Adam, by letting him catch her screwing someone else, with plans to go after Drew during filming. What she wasn’t counting on was me being in the way. That means that Kiera was in on the spying, trying to break us up. She’s the one with the biggest motive, except for the studio that wanted to sell tickets.
Shit, I shiver when I realize how lucky I am that she didn’t physically attack me at Drew’s charity ball in July.
“C’mon Forrester, cut the shit!” I look up from my contemplation and see Damien taking off his headgear.
“Sorry man, I’m fucked in the head today,” Drew says as
“Okay Sydney, arms like this,” Damien says as he positions me opposite the ring from Drew.
A small audience has gathered to watch Drew’s trainer and friend, Damien Spader, teach me how to drop Drew onto the mat. Since we’re not doing real sparring, we don’t have to put on all of the protective gear that the guys normally wear. I’m glad, because the gear stinks to high hell, but I’m also a tiny bit annoyed because now the entire gym can see our faces. Damien and Drew both swear that no one here will record anything that happens inside this building. Some sort of MMA guy-code or something like that.
I stand opp osite Damien as he instructs me. “Drew, come at her like an attacker. Sydney, when he does, jam this hip into his gut and pull him by the shoulders over your body and to the mat. Watch.”
Damien stands upright and motions for Drew to rush at him. He does the move exactly how he described it and Drew goes over his head and crashes on his back next to me.
Holy shit!
Drew pops up off of the ground as if nothing happened and goes back to his original position. Damn, he looks so hot right now. He’s wearing black and green fighting shorts and nothing else, no shoes, no gloves; I’m practically salivating onto the mat.
“Ready?” Damien asks me. I nod and stand still, waiting for Drew to attack. Damien motions for Drew to start and he comes at me, but stops before he gets close enough for me to touch him.
“Why did you stop?” I ask.
“I can’t,” he says to me. “I can’t attack you, it’s… it’s just not something I’m comfortable with.” Drew puts his hands on his hips and turns away.
“Here, we’ll switch places,” Damien says. “I’ll be the attacker.”
He moves to the other side of the cage and gets into a crouch.
“Ready?” he asks me.
No not at all. “Yep, ready.”
Damien ’s muscled and tattooed body comes at me and I hip check him in his abdomen and grab his shoulders, flinging him over my body and onto the mat.
Wow .
“That was great,” Drew says proudly, giving me a quick kiss. Our impromptu audience claps and cheers for me.
“Alright assholes, get back to training,” Damien says to everyone, waving them off. The group of fighters disperses and the usual background noise of grunts and punching starts up again.
The guys show me a few Krav Maga moves, which mostly seem like coordinated eye poking and testicle kicking. They assure me that it will work on an attacker, so I learn everything they show me. After an hour I’m wiped out, so I step out of the cage and let them punch the crap out of each other. Something I know Drew has been dying to do since he heard about Kiera.
Now that I have a few minutes of downtime, I start thinking about the whole mess with Kiera Radcliff. She’s just flat out psychotic. When I piece together the dates given to me by the FBI this morning with the timing of everything else going on, it all makes sense. The death threats started coming after Drew told her off at her hotel and came to London to be with me. She knew at that point that she was never going to get him and it completely unraveled her.
My God, she was probably planning this from the second she was cast opposite Drew. She dumped Adam, by letting him catch her screwing someone else, with plans to go after Drew during filming. What she wasn’t counting on was me being in the way. That means that Kiera was in on the spying, trying to break us up. She’s the one with the biggest motive, except for the studio that wanted to sell tickets.
Shit, I shiver when I realize how lucky I am that she didn’t physically attack me at Drew’s charity ball in July.
“C’mon Forrester, cut the shit!” I look up from my contemplation and see Damien taking off his headgear.
“Sorry man, I’m fucked in the head today,” Drew says as
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