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“It’s the truth. The best offense is defense, Sam. Never forget that. If you have the opportunity to escape confrontation, you need to take it.”
“But just in case, shouldn’t I know how to throw a punch properly?”
Liam held my gaze. It was a silent challenge. I didn’t back down. When he huffed, I knew it meant that I’d won. “Fine.”
“Alright, show me.”
“Take a fighting stance,” he instructed. I did so, right foot forward with my left foot slightly behind, raising my fists. Liam seemed amused. “Interesting.”
“What is?”
“You’re a southpaw. That’ll work to your advantage in most fights.”
I smiled, proud. “Good to know.”
“But it won’t matter if you’re outsized, outnumbered, and outmatched.”
“That’s less interesting.”
Liam snorted. “When you make your fists, hold them up here by your cheekbones. If your opponent takes a swing, your head will be protected. Keep your chin tucked in. Always keep your eyes and chest forward. Whether you throw a jab or a cross, make sure to follow through with your hips. That’s where the power comes from, the momentum.”
He demonstrated and I copied. Liam was a lot faster and more fluid, but I thought I got the hang of it pretty fast. It was tiring, keeping up with his different combinations. Jab-cross, cross-cross, right hook followed by a left roundhouse kick. I worked up a sweat quickly, cheeks rosy from all the blood pumping through my veins.
“Those are the basics,” he said. “Not too shabby, Lindale.”
“Am I ready for the ring?”
“Not by a longshot, but I like your optimism.”
“Can we try sparring now?”
“No offense, sweetheart, but you’d last two seconds.”
“Let me see if I can get a hit on you,” I said, pumped up and excited. “Come on. Just a tap. If I land a punch, you have to…”
“I have to…?”
“You have to tell me what’s bothering you.”
He stiffened but didn’t make a move to retreat. Instead, there was a glint in his eyes. Confidence, or perhaps overconfidence. “You’re cute when you’re stubborn,” he teased. “Alright, have at it. Land a punch and I’ll tell you what’s on my mind.”
And with that, I launched at him. He moved expertly, just as I expected him to, dodging everything I threw at him.
When I lurched forward after missing another big swing, he laughed. It was the most beautiful sound I ever heard, deep and low and hypnotizing. When I turned, I was mesmerized by Liam’s smile. My chest tightened, and the air squeezed out of my lungs.
Dear God, he was handsome when he smiled. I wanted to take a photo, burn the memory of it into my mind. It was a bit crooked, the way he grinned wide like that, small dimples denting his cheeks. The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, a good-natured chuckle rumbling out of him.
“Okay, Sam. You’re done. Let’s go back upstairs.”
Just as he turned away, I ran and jumped up on him, the momentum just enough to knock him over. I kept him pinned to the ground by straddling him, placing my weight comfortably on his stomach. I raised one fist, poised to come down with the speed of a full strike.
I bonked his forehead with my knuckles. “There!” I said triumphantly and so out of breath it was kind of embarrassing. “I win.”
“That doesn’t count. My back was turned.”
“‘Always keep your eyes and chest forward.’ That’s what you said.”
Liam rolled his eyes, smirking. “Fine. You win.”
