left the bar with a total stranger. You’d think it was my first time out!”
“He seemed like a nice guy.”
Reflecting back, I remembered the signs I’d ignored. “He really wasn’t, but I was too drunk to pay attention. Or something.”
The one other time I’d been too drunk, I’d been lucky. Patrick was a great guy, and Lane was a surprise gift that I cherished so much. Tuesday, luck wasn’t on my side, and the message was I needed to grow up. Now.
“It was amazing Slayde was there, that he saved you like that.”
Thinking of him on the beach in the moonlight, that warmth stirred again in my chest. It was immediately replaced by humiliation. “Oh, god, I could die!” Pressing hand over my eyes, I fell back on the couch cringing. “I called him Batman. Then I asked him to show me his moves ... I’m such an idiot!”
She struggled against her laughter. “You are not! It was sort of dark knight-ish the way he showed up and then ran off, and he does have moves. Hot and sexy ones.”
“I won’t blame him if he gives his two-weeks’ notice tomorrow. Between you doing sign language at him and me gushing all over him, he probably thinks we’re all nuts.”
She hummed. “I doubt it. You just let me know if anything happens in the morning.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
We said goodnight, and I dropped the phone. Thinking about what I’d said and talking to Slayde after work, a shy grin pulled at the corners of my mouth. I could feel the pink on my cheeks, and I dropped the remote on the couch cushion, going to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for sleep.
* * *
M y shoulders fell when I pulled into the Jungle Gym parking lot at seven. Not a single car or truck was there. I fought against the pout pulling my bottom lip and went inside, snatching my key out of my cubby and heading toward the small boxing room in the back.
He said he wouldn’t train me. Why did I doubt his words? Besides, he probably had women lined up all over the place. He’d probably gone home with Darla last night and screwed her brains out.
The thought pissed me off. I jerked the gel gloves over my knuckles and stomped toward the hanging bag. When I got to it, I pulled back and hit it as hard as I could. Letting out a little growl, I hit it again with my other hand. Then I hit it harder. I hopped up and down, but I didn’t care about form. I just wanted to hit something. I pulled my fists back and hammered them one after the other against that stupid bag, letting out all the frustration I was feeling.
My long ponytail flipped around with every strike, getting caught in my arms. With another growl I stepped back and planted a roundhouse kick to the bag followed by a hard left jab. Then I did a fast combination.
Jab, cross, hook, front kick.
Jab, cross, hook, front kick.
Stupid hair getting in my way.
I stepped back and jerked a glove off with my teeth. Then I blinked, and my stomach jumped. Slayde was in the doorway, leaning against it, watching me intently.
Catching my breath, I took a step back. “I-I didn’t think you were coming.”
He shrugged and pushed himself upright. “This is when I normally come in.”
Of course it was. He always left early, which clearly meant he came in early. I was a self-centered little twit to think it had anything to do with me.
Still, he took a step in my direction. “Your speed and power are good, but your form is a mess.”
“I wasn’t really worried about form.”
“You should always worry about form.” His brow lowered. “How you practice is how you’ll fight.”
I couldn’t help a tiny smile at that. “But I’m not going to fight, remember? I’m going to carry mace or pepper spray.”
“And if he takes it from you? What then?” His blue eyes were so intense, I had to blink down.
“Hope for Batman?” My voice was soft, and I noticed his stance change.
He took a few steps toward the bag. “Batman’s a myth. I’ll show you how to throw a punch, but
“He seemed like a nice guy.”
Reflecting back, I remembered the signs I’d ignored. “He really wasn’t, but I was too drunk to pay attention. Or something.”
The one other time I’d been too drunk, I’d been lucky. Patrick was a great guy, and Lane was a surprise gift that I cherished so much. Tuesday, luck wasn’t on my side, and the message was I needed to grow up. Now.
“It was amazing Slayde was there, that he saved you like that.”
Thinking of him on the beach in the moonlight, that warmth stirred again in my chest. It was immediately replaced by humiliation. “Oh, god, I could die!” Pressing hand over my eyes, I fell back on the couch cringing. “I called him Batman. Then I asked him to show me his moves ... I’m such an idiot!”
She struggled against her laughter. “You are not! It was sort of dark knight-ish the way he showed up and then ran off, and he does have moves. Hot and sexy ones.”
“I won’t blame him if he gives his two-weeks’ notice tomorrow. Between you doing sign language at him and me gushing all over him, he probably thinks we’re all nuts.”
She hummed. “I doubt it. You just let me know if anything happens in the morning.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
We said goodnight, and I dropped the phone. Thinking about what I’d said and talking to Slayde after work, a shy grin pulled at the corners of my mouth. I could feel the pink on my cheeks, and I dropped the remote on the couch cushion, going to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for sleep.
* * *
M y shoulders fell when I pulled into the Jungle Gym parking lot at seven. Not a single car or truck was there. I fought against the pout pulling my bottom lip and went inside, snatching my key out of my cubby and heading toward the small boxing room in the back.
He said he wouldn’t train me. Why did I doubt his words? Besides, he probably had women lined up all over the place. He’d probably gone home with Darla last night and screwed her brains out.
The thought pissed me off. I jerked the gel gloves over my knuckles and stomped toward the hanging bag. When I got to it, I pulled back and hit it as hard as I could. Letting out a little growl, I hit it again with my other hand. Then I hit it harder. I hopped up and down, but I didn’t care about form. I just wanted to hit something. I pulled my fists back and hammered them one after the other against that stupid bag, letting out all the frustration I was feeling.
My long ponytail flipped around with every strike, getting caught in my arms. With another growl I stepped back and planted a roundhouse kick to the bag followed by a hard left jab. Then I did a fast combination.
Jab, cross, hook, front kick.
Jab, cross, hook, front kick.
Stupid hair getting in my way.
I stepped back and jerked a glove off with my teeth. Then I blinked, and my stomach jumped. Slayde was in the doorway, leaning against it, watching me intently.
Catching my breath, I took a step back. “I-I didn’t think you were coming.”
He shrugged and pushed himself upright. “This is when I normally come in.”
Of course it was. He always left early, which clearly meant he came in early. I was a self-centered little twit to think it had anything to do with me.
Still, he took a step in my direction. “Your speed and power are good, but your form is a mess.”
“I wasn’t really worried about form.”
“You should always worry about form.” His brow lowered. “How you practice is how you’ll fight.”
I couldn’t help a tiny smile at that. “But I’m not going to fight, remember? I’m going to carry mace or pepper spray.”
“And if he takes it from you? What then?” His blue eyes were so intense, I had to blink down.
“Hope for Batman?” My voice was soft, and I noticed his stance change.
He took a few steps toward the bag. “Batman’s a myth. I’ll show you how to throw a punch, but
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