5. Dirty Karate
FIVE
dirty karate
My arms are wrapped around Brianna, her back pressed up against my chest. It takes everything in me to concentrate on what I’m supposed to be doing and not on her neck, which is right next to my lips. All it would take for me to touch her skin with mine is a slight turn of my head. My heart races. I’m pretty sure she can feel it pounding through my Gi. I keep telling myself it’s just from all the physical strain I’ve gone through this afternoon, not from the way this girl is pressed up against me.
I’m lying to myself, and I know it.
“Put your arms out, then bring them both up before you twist out of the hold,” I tell her, keeping my voice controlled. “If you think of it like a dance move, it might make it easier to perfect the motion.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” she asks as she makes the slight turn of her head I was thinking of just seconds ago.
Rather than let my mouth have its way, I pull back enough to avoid contact. “Nope. Can’t dance. At all. But there is a rhythm to the defensive moves, so this should be a piece of cake for you.” I shake my head, my arms still wrapped around hers, but I’m not sure how much longer I can do this. My reaction to having her this close is becoming almost embarrassing.
“Oh, interesting. If that’s the case, I bet I can fix your problem.” Brianna steps away from me and turns around. “Ever see Dirty Dancing ? We just need to find a creek and a log, and I’ll have you dancing in no time.”
I laugh. “There is no way that will ever happen. I’d probably drown. Now, let’s keep working onyourmoves. Have you ever seen The Karate Kid ? Wax on, wax off. Show me.”
I lunge at her. Brianna’s eyes widen in surprise at my pretend attack, but the second my hand grips her arm, she shoots it up then twists her wrists around, perfectly executing the maneuver I’ve been demonstrating for the past half hour.
I smile at her, nodding in approval. “That’s pretty good. We should keep practicing that one until it becomes automatic.” I don’t really need to keep working on it with her, but the two movies we mentioned blend in my mind, and suddenly, Dirty Karate sounds pretty close to what we’ve been doing, and I want to do it more.
The tension is pretty thick as Brianna refrains from answering. I cough to release it.
“I wonder if they have enough footage yet,” she says. “We’ve been at this for a while.” Brianna gives the director a glance, searching for any indication we’re done yet. “I want to watch you some more. Show me what you’ve got.”
She takes a seat on the blanket set up by the prop mistress.
We’ve been on this grassy hill for most of the afternoon while I’ve shown her different karate moves. Brianna’s had her eyes on me the entire time. She asked if I could teach her something, so that’s what we’ve been doing. The director wanted to film us from a distance, letting us decide where to sit or stand and which karate exercises to display. At this point, after hours of being on showcase, both of us are waiting for him to yell “cut.”
For now, I oblige Brianna and review one of my competition routines. It includes some impressive kicks and tumbles, so I figure it’ll look good on film. I’m used to people watching me do this, but when that person is also a star and completely gorgeous, with her full attention on me, it’s pretty unsettling. I take a few deep breaths and continue the basics to keep myself calm.
“When did you start karate?” she asks while she watches me.
“I was eight. It was my mom’s idea, and I hated it for the first year. Cried every time she made me go to class. I was scared of the sensei. He called me out every time I made a mistake.” I laugh. It’s funny to me now, because I do the same thing to my students.
“Why would she make you go back? Poor little guy.” Brianna makes a sad face. It’s pretty cute, actually.
“No, I’m glad she did. If she’d let me give up, I would never have overcome everything.”
“Overcome what?” There’s concern on Brianna’s face as she asks this.
For some reason, I didn’t expect her to ask questions about me. That’s the only explanation I have for what I say next.
“The reason my mom forced me to go—the reason she signed me up in the first place—was because I was being bullied.” I take a moment to breathe through the exercise but catch the shock on Brianna’s face at my confession. I’ve already opened the proverbial can of worms. I might as well keep going.
“I was a weak, scrawny little thing. I wasn’t great at sports and not very outgoing, so the alpha males at school decided to make me their entertainment.” Grabby-hands Ross was the main instigator. His followers jumped in line whenever he got started on me. But I’ve overcome the past, and now I’m here and Ross is stuck back home. “It never got physical, but the threat was always there.” I shrug. “Mom just wanted me to be safe.” In our little town, the fact we even had a dojo to attend was a miracle, she said.
Brianna’s hand covers her heart. “I love your mom.” Her voice is a whisper .
I try not to concentrate on her face, because I have a feeling whatever look she’s got on it right now will absolutely slay me.
“I’m glad she pushed you then,” she says.
“Same.” I stop talking, because the routine is getting more intense. The kicks are getting higher, there’s a leg sweep maneuver coming up, and then there’s a series of jumps and turns. Brianna must sense the change, because she quiets down. I have my back to her now. I don’t think I could handle seeing her watch me. Seeing her face would be more intense than this routine.
Instead, my mind turns over all our interactions from the past four days. We haven’t filmed together since the military base on Sunday, and that wasn’t exactly together the way this is. I sat in a jeep with one hand on the wheel, staring off into the distance, while Brianna stood about ten yards away, singing her heart out. Or lip-synching her heart out, I guess. I watched in my peripheral vision since I wasn’t supposed to look directly at her.
It was the first time I’d heard the playback of the song this video is for: “Rescue Me.” Most of her songs sound like they belong in a club with a DJ—really upbeat, fast, with a techno edge to them. Not my style at all. But this song ... wow . It has soul. It’s slower than her usual stuff, but it has the same raw honesty I noticed the day I met her. The vulnerable look in her eyes that made me want to protect her. That’s what this song does to me when I hear it. It makes me want to scoop her up and ... rescue her.
Between that shoot and now, we’ve run errands and worked on small tasks Char has assigned us—although the “errands” were things like my new headshots, which took up almost two entire days. Brianna hung around the shoot but didn’t say much. She must’ve stayed in the makeup trailer or somewhere on set, because I hardly saw her until I was finished each day. Char did her bossy thing and made all the decisions.
Yesterday, I went over Brianna’s upcoming schedule with Char at Siren Song, which is not only the sound production studio, but also the home base for all things Brianna Royce. She’s attending a premiere, and they want me to go with her. It will be my christening event as Brianna’s official boyfriend. I’m expected to go along for all of it. Then, before the tour leaves, she has a few meet-and-greets and tour rehearsals.
I’ll be present for everything, all the time.
The meeting was overwhelming. If I was exhausted just listening to the list of day-to-day events, how was I going to handle the constant demands of a tour? While I sat there internally freaking out, the thought did cross my mind to back out before it got too intense. But then Char and I left the office and walked into the lounge where this whole thing began, and I saw Brianna sitting on the white couch waiting for us. Her head shot over to me the second the door opened, and there it was, totally unmistakable: the fear, once again written all over her face. How could I walk away after seeing that look? I couldn’t. What kind of guy would I be if I did?
She didn’t ask, but I could tell she was worried I’d back out after hearing her schedule. Instead I put her worries to rest and assured her I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’ll clear my schedule. Looks like we’ve got a packed few months coming up.” I winked.
Her relieved smile was all I needed. I knew I was doing the right thing.
But a day later, with sweat pouring down my face and cameras following my every move, my previous confidence has vanished. I’m drenched. The routine is almost complete, with only the most impressive overhead kick left to finish it off. The complicated move is always a crowd-pleaser, and although I don’t have a crowd, a part of me hopes Brianna is pleased. And impressed. And that she’ll fall hopelessly in love with me.
Whoa. Got to stop those thoughts from running through my mind. I was almost distracted to the point of completely forgetting what the heck I was doing. Not good when your legs are up over your body and you’re three feet aboveground.
The second I land and take the final stance, stilling my body before bowing, Brianna goes stone silent. I want to look back at her worse than I’ve ever wanted to look at anyone—even worse than the desire to look at the judges’ reactions during a competition. I use every ounce of discipline I have to remain facing away from her, but it’s too much. I’m about to break, fucking turn around anyway, but I know the look on my face will reveal too many emotions I want to keep hidden.
It’s not like that with her and me. Not romance, just business.
So instead, I squat down, resting my arms on my knees and lowering my head, trying desperately to catch my breath. I’m such an idiot for trying to impress a girl who’s so out of my league it’s like a ridiculous teen movie. I shake my head, still dripping with sweat, and reach down to untie my belt. I’m burning up, and I need to get this tunic off me. When I slip it off my shoulders and let it drop to the ground, I hear her. Brianna gasps, but it’s the smallest gasp I’ve ever heard a person make, as if she were trying to hold it inside but didn’t have the strength to do so.
Damn, I want to turn around!
I hold it together for exactly thirty seconds. Then I stand up and turn back toward Brianna the very instant the director finally yells, “Cut!”
We both snap our heads toward him. The energy that was flowing between us seems to have been cut as well. I sense the change he caused, as if he pulled us out of a trance. As strong as I felt it mere seconds ago, with the way it vanished so quickly, I wonder if I imagined it.
Brianna sits on the blanket with her legs crossed. Her eyes are turned down, focusing on a bracelet she’s wearing, one hand rolling it back and forth on her arm.
“Can you hand me some water?” I ask.
Without looking up at me, she grabs a bottle out of the picnic basket—also conveniently placed by the prop mistress—and stands up to bring it to me. Brianna doesn’t make eye contact, but she is looking at me. At my arms, my stomach, then my chest. I don’t have the tunic on. It’s still lying on the ground next to me, where I dropped it. She’s gazing at my skin, and I’m completely exposed.
“Huh,” she mutters as she hands me the water bottle.
“What?” I take it from her.
“You don’t have any tattoos. It seems like everyone has some nowadays. I guess it’s unexpected.” Her eyes finally rise and look into mine.
“Yeah, well, there isn’t anything in my life I feel strongly enough about to have it permanently inked on my flesh. That’s a pretty serious decision, you know.” I feel defensive even though I don’t think she’s judging me. “What about you?”
She gives me that smile—the one that almost lights up her face. “Nope. None. For literally the exact same reasons.”
“Respectable.” I open the water bottle and take a drink as Char approaches us.
“Guys, that was perfect. The director loves the banter and the hot looks between the two of you.”
What? I find my lungs back in my mouth at her words. Was Brianna giving me hot looks?
“So, Zack, we want some close-ups of the karate thing you did. You can rest up, get something to eat, and then we’ll be back here at three for more shots.” Char turns her head to address Brianna. “Bree, you’re done for the day, so say the word, and I’ll call for the car.”
Brianna’s eyes immediately fill with fear. Is she afraid to leave? To be alone? I don’t know the answers, but would it matter if I did? The fear is why I’m here.
I look at Char to see her reaction, but she has none. Nothing at all, and I find myself pissed off.
“Shouldn’t a girlfriend hang around while her boyfriend is showing off?” I suggest, trying to give Brianna an excuse to stay even though she isn’t needed. She obviously doesn’t want to leave.
The relief on her face is instant. “That’s a good point. I should be making sure none of these other girls hit on you.”
Char just smiles. “Okay. Looks like you two have things all figured out. Which is perfect, because tomorrow, we heat things up with this video. Be prepared to paw each other all afternoon.”
I’m pretty sure it’s my eyes filled with fear now.