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She grins widely. “I would never.”
After giving a few more under the chin scratches, she stands, placing her folder on the coffee table. “Okay, I’m ready. What are we learning today?”
“You’ve been practicing the moves from Friday?”
“Was I supposed to?”
“Well, it’s a good idea. You want it to come second nature to you when you’re in an actual situation.”
She nods seriously. “Right. That makes sense. Do you have to do that for boxing?”
“Yep. When you’re getting pounded, you need to instinctively react. To have that muscle memory.”
“Okay, so heel thrust.” She does the accompanying movement. “Groin kick. Elbow strike. Hammer strike.” She runs through each of them a few times, her face set in concentration.
“Feel like you got those down?”
“I think so. Could we work on getting out of holds next? Or is that too advanced? It’s not like I could flip you over and pin you.”
Pinning me? Like straddling me on the ground, her hips atop mine, pressing me down…
Fuck. I’ve got to stop thinking like this.
I shake my head, clearing it. “We’re not doing any jiu jitsu style stuff.”
“Okay. Do you think I could actually get out of a guy’s hold? I’m pretty small.”
Yeah, she is. She only reaches my shoulder, with a petite build that doesn’t inspire any kind of confidence in her gaining an edge on a guy like me.
“Chances are someone that’s assaulting you will be bigger and stronger, right?”
She nods warily.
“So what you want to focus on is being faster and ruthless.”
She swallows heavily. “Ruthless?”
“Yep. Stomp on their feet. Elbow them in the gut. If your hand is free, bring it as hard as you can into their face, into their groin. Scratch them. Bite them. Yell and scream. Attract attention. Whatever you can do to get away.”
She blinks at me a few times. Did I shock her?
“Why don’t we try it out? But don’t really hit me. Just tell me what you’d do.”
She nods and I move in, stopping when her eyes go wide, panic on her face. The same as that day in the laundry room.
She holds her hands up to her face, covering it. “Sorry, I did it again, didn’t I? I thought I was over this.”
Over what?
“Come at me.” She motions toward herself, seeming to brace for impact, like I’m going to tackle her.
“I don’t want to scare you.”
“You don’t,” she insists.
I raise a brow, the evidence suggesting otherwise.
“Only when you move quickly,” she explains. “It doesn’t seem like you’d be able to move that fast with how big you are.” Her cheeks pinken almost immediately. “Not that you’re fat. Obviously you’re not. You’re in amazing shape.” She wipes her hands on her pants, glancing around. “Just broad. Like your shoulders and back and arms…”
