How many times have I wished someone would look at me like that? Like I was the only thing in their world? Like they didn’t want me to change one bit?
Not the weird kid. Justenough.
“We’re doing something practical today. Pair up.”
“Who am I paired with, Coach? Do I get to pick?” Tristan asks.
I snort and fold my arms over my stomach, like it will keep me from feeling jittery and warm.
“Go ahead.”
He hums in his throat, then smiles at me, all dimples and teeth. The look in his eyes makes my stomach tremble. He looks like he knows exactly what I did on my bed yesterday, and worse, he likes it.
Oh god.
“I pick you.”
“Pick someone else.” My face is hot and I know he can see it, andgod,is heflirting with me? Or is this all in my head?
“I’ll be your partner,” Malika pipes up. She smacks her fists together and then winces. I hide a smile. I did that the first time I sparred too.
“I’d be honored.” Tristan gives her a warm smile and her eyes get big. I can’t say I blame her.
Twenty minuteslater I’m trying to get Harmony to practice breaking a wristlock.
“Grab me,” I encourage her.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Her dark eyes are so serious and thoughtful. “Someone grabbed me like this once and it really hurt.” My chest pinches at the concern in her voice and the hunch of her spine. I want to be a hundred feet tall so I can put her on my shoulders. I want to be big enough to protect her from anything bad.
“Shoulders back,” I tell her. “Make yourself bigger.”
She straightens. I nod firmly.
“Once you establish a boundary, you know when people are breaking it. Understood? Boundaries are good.”
“Like what?”
I cast around for a volunteer. “Tristan. Come here.”
He grins at me from where Malika is punching him in the arm. “Yes, Coach.” He jogs over, hair flopping over his brow, eyes sparkling.
“Pretend you’re scared of me.”
His dimple pops. “I am scared of you.”
There’s a giggle from across the room, and I realize everyone is looking at me, but especially Harmony, who is taking everything in with folded arms and an intense stare.
I stalk toward him, and he moves to the side. I adjust and keep coming. “Right there,” I tell the girls. “That right there was his boundary, and I crossed it.”
“I’d let you cross my boundaries any day,” he whispers.
I glare at him, and he coughs into his collar. “Now you know my intentions might be bad and you can be on your guard. That’s half of self-defense right there.”
I turn to Harmony again. “Shoulders back, okay? Now grab me.”
We finish twenty minutes later. The girls are exhilarated, giggling and screaming and taking videos with their phones as they wail on the punching bags in the corner of the room. Malika and Rosh are doing some type of dance with the boxing gloves held in front of their faces.
“Hey, killer.”
