Page 138 of Whispered Promises

Another movement.

“Cross.”

His heat leaves my back, and I sway on my toes, feeling the loss. As he steps to my side, his smirk has me scowling. I’m too pissed to hold it in.

“Keep the balance on your toes to move, then plant and keep your knees bent to punch.”

Staring the bag down, I pause, waiting for him to continue.

“That’s it?”

He places my headphones in my ears and pulls out his phone. Wait, when did he get them from my bag, and how has he connected his device to them?

“Keep your thumbs on the outside of your fists. Then go for it, little tease. Get out what you need to,” he says.

The sound of a deep, angry beat blasts through my ears. It winds through my body, igniting the itching beneath my skin. I move. I don’t think; I follow his instructions.

I go for it.

Losing myself in the rhythm, I follow the bag as it moves.

Each time my fists connect with it, I feel every emotional punch I’ve been given reciprocated. Every time I’ve been made to feel worthless.

Jab.

Every time I’ve not been enough.

Jab.

Invisible.

Cross.

Disposable.

Jab.

Unwanted.

Jab. Hook. Cross.

Body sagging, I come to a swaying, exhausted stop. My breaths are harsh and loud as I fight to suck in air. It’s obviously not enough, though, because I stagger slightly as I step back. Nate’s arms wrap around me, tugging my damp, spent body against his, and he holds me, giving me the support to centre myself.

I push my headphones down to my neck. “Gloves, I need them off. I can’t…” My voice breaks as I start panicking at their restrictive pressure. I need it off. Off.

The world blurs as he spins me, tugging them off and tossing them to the side.

“I got you,” he says, his deep voice familiar and grounding. He pulls me into his body, arms encircling me. One hand cups the back of my neck, his thumb covering my pulse. “Deep breaths with me, little tease.”

My hands shake, and I fist them into his T-shirt, trying to copy him. I’m not sure how long it takes, but he continues holding me, each inhale and exhale I make matching his.

Until I come back to my surroundings.

Until I realise my face is itchy with drying tears.

I’m mortified.

“I need to go home,” I mumble into his chest.