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When he’s teaching us a new technique, Raymond always makes sure that we roll with as many different opponents as possible. We’re asked to pair up anew after each grappling bout. And I find myself looking for him every single time, but while we seem to be moving closer to each other, we never end up together as the class goes on. I can barely focus on my own grappling and experience a tinge of embarrassment when Peter, a blue belt, manages to make me tap out with surprising ease.
“You okay?” he asks, as he jumps away from me. “Are you hurt or sick or something?”
Honest concern graces his face when he looks at me.
“No, no,” I insist. “Just not on my best form today, I guess. Good job, though!”
He smiles with pride before he turns around to find a new partner for the last session of the day.
Before I can do the same, I feel the touch of a finger on my shoulder, just as I get back up on my feet.
My heart almost stops when I turn around and find him standing right in front of me. Chase towers before me, a mix of determination and a hint of a smile playing on his lips, as if he was mirroring my own feelings.
“You up for this?” he asks, jutting his chin forward.
He’s even more attractive up close, so much so that his presence renders me speechless.
Well, shit.
A mute nod is all I can come up with as a response, and I’m suddenly feeling very, very dizzy.
I hear our sensei’s voice in the background, sharing observations and giving last minute pointers to some of us, but his words are muffled and far away. I can feel my own heartbeat and a sense of unnerving excitement coursing through my veins.
“Alright, shall we?” Chase asks, pointing toward the mat and raising an eyebrow.
I don’t like the condescending tone in his voice, or the way he looks at me—but I can’t help the nervous flutter that rushes through my core at the sight of his muscular arms stretching the thin fabric of his rashguard as he gestures for me to come closer.
But I know one thing: Nervous flutter or not, I will not let him get off easy.
Chapter 2
Chase
I should have known better, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I’m here to check out a new dojo, or rather, its sensei. Raymond Souza is a well-known Jiu-Jitsu trainer. He only accepts a few private clients a year, and I need to be one of them. Supposedly, he’s one of the best.
The world may try to apply the brakes on my professional growth right now, but I’m still in control of my personal growth. And Raymond and his vigorous training are just what I need to excel in this area. Today, I came here to check him out and see his dojo.
I did not come here to flirt.
But my gaze keeps gravitating back to her, the tall and lean figure that moves through the training area with an almost feline grace. Her long, straight hair is neatly tied back in a ponytail, revealing the elegant curve of her neck and the fierce determination etched across her features. It’s a blessing that today is a no gi class. It means I get to see that much more of her irresistible body in those tight leggings and the equally tight fitting rashguard.
I sense her eyes on me at times, a subtle acknowledgment that we’re both acutely aware of each other's presence. But it’s not just her physical prowess that draws my attention. It’s the fire in her eyes, the fierceness that laces her expression as she tackles her opponents.
The battle inside my mind rages as I inch closer to her, the pull of attraction mingling with the knowledge that this is neither the time nor the place to indulge in flirtation.
But now here we are.
She hasn’t said a word since I approached her, and her eyes shy away every time I try to catch her gaze. I can’t blame her for being intimidated by me—most people are, on and off the mat. I’m used to it. But seeing a girl like her react to me in this way, is a special treat for sure.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” I promise as we move to a corner of the room that provides enough space for us to roll.
She raises an eyebrow when she looks at me now. “That’s… you don’t need to worry about me.”
“Alright then,” I retort, unable to suppress a chuckle at the sudden shift of attitude in her.
“I’m serious,” she insists, looking at me through narrowed eyes. “No need to hold back—unless you’re afraid?”
She smirks at me as she plants herself on the ground and gets into position.
