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“And after you get them in the balls, run as fast as you can.”
I nod, taking this in and hoping I never have to use it as I look around me at the proud smiles of the boys.
I allow the feeling of pride to bloom in my chest, when Riley claps his hands, turning to me, “Alright, now lie down and get on your back.”
I blink. “What?”
If anyone had askedme if I was going to have Riley sitting on top of me when I entered this gym, I would have laughed in their faces.
But here we are.
I thought it was a joke when Riley had asked me to get on my back. I mean, if he had asked me when we were at home and alone, I would’ve been on my back so quick I’d leave smoke in my wake. But looking around at all the guys, feeling my cheeks heat up, I think anyone could understand my hesitancy.
After clarifying it was for a self-defence move, I raised brow, but now I lie down in the middle of the ring, not knowing where to put my hands. I place them awkwardly on my stomach as I watch Riley come around to stand at my feet. He looks at me for a moment then, thinking. I hold my breath, curious and waiting as he lowers himself until he is straddling me with his legs on either side on my hips.
Sitting down, looking serious, I try very hard to focus on his words as he tells me, “If a guy gets you on the floor, it’s a little harder to get out of.”
I nod, taking it in.
“And if a guy does this”—he grabs my wrists in his hands, gently, but moves to put them above my head, looming over me, and I almost forget that the guys are here and we are merely practicing self-defence. I notice his eyes move over me momentarily as he explains, his voice getting low—“it makes it harder to fight. So what do you do?”
My mind is blank for a moment until I suggest, uncertainty filling my voice, “Kick you in the balls?”
“Try it.”
I hesitate, before doing what he says, but he's too high up on my hips for me to get him, making it useless.
“See? Now if a guy has you like this”—he gives my wrists a gentle squeeze—“you need to use all your strength and buck me off with your hips. When you push me over, roll with me and when you are on top, you start punching before you run away.”
I raise my brows. “You want me to punch you?”
“No, but you’ll need to punch a guy if in this situation.” He pauses. “So let’s try it, and when you are trying to push me off, it will be hard because of the weight, but think of why you want to fight. It helps to think about your reasons for living and what you are trying to protect from this guy.”
I nod, picturing the guy that attacked me my first night, picturing Laurence and his slimy smirk as I feel Riley’s hands on my wrist tighten. It's like a green light comes before me as I use all the anger I have, driving my hips up until Riley is rolling, and I follow his instructions, rolling with him until I have a hand free, using it to ‘pretend’ punch him.
Leaning over Riley, breathing heavily, I distantly hear the cheers from the guys once again, but I am more focused on the proud and encouraging smile coming from Riley as he looks up at me.
“You did great! How did that feel?”
I think for a moment, allowing myself to catch my breath. “It was hard, but good.”
Travis comes forward, his arms crossed over his chest as he comments, “It’ll be harder if the guy is bigger and more determined. If a guy wants you, he’ll be holding on to you so tight you’ll get bruises.”
We trya few more moves and practice the ones I already learnt until I'm confident I have them, although Riley wouldn't let me try it with any of the other guys. I didn’t want to, but I thought it was strange. I wasn’t going to argue, though.
By the time we're finished, I'm sweating, breathing heavily, and my muscles ache. I grit my teeth as Riley takes my hand, helping me up off the floor, dusting off my butt as I sigh. “Is that it?”
He looks at me with not an ounce of sweat on him and smiles. “Not even close.” When I cock my head, he explains, “I’ve got someone coming, remember.”
“Who?” But instead of an answer, Riley’s smile grows as he looks past me, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Sorry, I’m late! Went to the wrong gym!” I turn and see Logan strutting in, dressed in black shorts and a loose grey shirt, his hard hair ruffled and a big grin on his face as he approaches the ring. His big voice echoes in the gym, drawing the attention of others, but Logan seems unaware of how loud he is speaking as he pulls himself up, using the ropes surround the ring.
“Did you know there is a ladies' boxing gym just a couple of doors down? It got really awkward when I sat there for a good thirty minutes. But”—he digs in his pocket and pulls out a slip of paper—“a girl gave me her number.”
He beams with pride, waving the paper around like a white flag, when Malcom snatches it from his hand and reads from it out loud, his voice tensed as if trying to suppress a smile. “Not on your life, creep.”
“What?!” Logan snatches it back and reads, disappointment evident on his face as he realises he didn’t get lucky but got rejected. Scrunching the paper, he slumps his shoulders. “Oh, man.”
