“Not bad,” Rylan said, grinning as he blocked one of my slow punches. “You’ve got good instincts. That’s a start.”
I puffed out a breath. My heart was racing. “You’re going easy on me.”
“Of course I am. But that’s about to change.”
He picked up the pace. His movements were quicker now, but still careful. I ducked under a kick, barely missed his elbow, and turned just in time to avoid a sweep of his leg.
“You’re pretty good at running away,” he teased.
“I’m not running. I’m dodging.”
“Same thing.”
I narrowed my eyes and aimed a kick toward his shin. He laughed and caught my foot with ease, then let it go.
“Okay, okay,” I huffed. “Maybe I am bad at this.”
“You’re not,” he said, stepping closer, his voice low. “You just need the right teacher.”
“And that’s you?”
“Obviously. I’m the
