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If she told Joe, he’d totally flip out and either confront Eli—which would be a disaster—or he’d tell Quinn, and then the two of them would confront Eli—which would be an even bigger disaster. The loser in both those scenarios would be Poppy.
Selfishly, the idea of Poppy—or anyone—thinking she’d messed around with Eli made her sick. Learning that she’d been the other woman with her ex, Paul, had left an aching wound inside her. A wound that was still too fresh. Too tender. The last thing she wanted was any rumors going around about her and Eli. But the man was sure to leave her alone after what had happened today, right? He had to.
Roxie’s skin prickled with awareness. Glancing around, her eyes widened. Everyone was staring at her.
“Rox?”
Crap. She managed a chagrined smile. “Sorry, Joe. You were saying?”
He flashed that damn Buchanan grin at their group. Pointing at her, he said, “That’s what I was telling you about, right there. The most important thing is to be aware of your surroundings. Situational awareness is your first line of defense. We’ll let Rox slide this time, but that’s the only break we’re giving her tonight.”
She rolled her eyes as half the women chuckled and the other half sighed.
“Here’s the thing I want to make really clear to all of you,” Joe continued. “The point of this self-defense class isn’t to teach you how to kick someone’s ass. If you want to do that, then I suggest you take some classes here at Cade’s—preferably ones that don’t start with the wordcardio. Don’t get me wrong, that class is a great workout... but ass kicking it is not.”
“Thanks for the plug, bro,” Cade said with a chuckle from the side of the room.
Joe nodded at his friend, then returned his gaze to the group. “But in all seriousness, this isn’t a class about going toe to toe with an assailant. Because here’s a simple fact: men, in general, are physically stronger than women. And if a man catches a woman by surprise, then the scales tip even more in his favor.”
“Then why are we here again, gorgeous?” Sheila called out. “Not that I’m complaining about the scenery.”
Roxie stifled a gag as Joe winked at Sheila. It didn’t matter that she’d thought the same thing; she hadn’t said it out loud all breathy-like.
“The point of tonight, ladies, is to learn how to temporarily stun your assailant so you can get away. I can’t stress that enough. You’re not out to kick the bad guy’s ass. Your focus is to get away to safety. Alive. Those are the goals. Now for the basics. Everyone make a fist.” He scanned the group, then motioned to Roxie. “Front and center.”
Oh no. She arched a brow and gave him her best princess-to-peon look.
With an impatient sigh, Joe tried again. “Please. Will you come up here for a class demonstration?”
Roxie grinned. Much better. She hopped up from the mat and joined him.
“Now, many of you know that Rox and I go way back. So far back that I know our resident baker here once broke our fearless sheriff’s nose with a wicked right hook.”
She curtsied as guffaws erupted from both sides of the room.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Alex called to Quinn. “I still love you.”
“So, Rox,” Joe said over the din, “feel free to show everyone how to make a proper fist.”
Roxie held up her right hand. “You make aBin sign language, then move your thumb out. Starting with the tips of your fingers, roll them down to a fist. Finally, bend your thumb back across your fingers. For the love of god, ladies, donotwrap your thumbs inside your fists.”
“Right. That’s the best way to hurt yourself. You don’t want to put yourself at any sort of disadvantage.” Joe went around and checked the women’s fists, correcting them where needed, then returned to Roxie’s side. “As I’ve said before, the focus is to damage the other person enough so you can get away. That means you’re going to use whatever you have at your disposal, not just your fists. There are zero rules in defending yourself.”
Joe motioned for Cade to join him, and Roxie took that as her cue to leave. She walked toward her spot on the mat, but he caught her by the wrist before she got far.
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, Rox.” Joe grinned and gave her a wink, playing to the crowd again.
“I’d be happy to take your place any day, Roxie,” Sheila called out to a few laughs.
Great. Had she known she was going to be part of the entertainment portion of the evening, she’d have stayed home and skipped directly to the girls-night-slash-drinking portion of the evening instead.
Joe yanked her toward him, and she jerked away. Irritation simmered in her gut when he responded by yanking a second time. She opened her mouth to tell him to shove it—she wasn’t his pull toy, dammit—but he spoke over her head.
“Wrist control. If the assailant gets control of your wrists, you make sure you do everything you can to break their hold on you. Everything.”
He looked at Roxie, one hand still locked around her wrist. “I’m the bad guy—”
“No shit, Sherlock,” she muttered.
