I growl low in my throat and lunge again. He blocks. I pivot, throw a backhand. He steps out of range, laughing under his breath.
“You’ve got fire, Red. Now show me you can use it without flashing your tits.”
“Oh my god, Knox!”
He laughs. “Hey, it worked once. Just don’t make it a habit.”
I glare at him, but even as my arms ache and my pride stings, I can’t stop the smile that pulls at my mouth. This is hard, infuriating, and yet, somehow, it feels good.
It feels like I’m learning.
And from the way he keeps circling, watching, and never letting up, I know he’s not going to let me stop until I get it right.
He circles me again, not even sweating, not even breathing hard, while I feel like I’ve been running uphill in the heat for hours. My arms are trembling, my breath is ragged, and
