Chapter 4
JAKE
Well. We were off to an interesting start.
I didn’t let on to Ethan that I’d already seen his fight.
You could tell a lot about someone based on whether or not they would dissect their own performance with you.
Some guys liked to bluster their way through it, especially if they’d suffered a defeat, but the defeats were where you learned the most. Ethan might not have been happy about the way his fight had turned out, but he wasn’t unhappy enough not to stand right there with me and listen to himself get his ass beat.
And he did get his ass beat, there was no denying it.
I’d have to start with the basics. “Okay, so. I know you probably want to get started with punching and all that shit, but let’s go over the safety speech first.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. He could actually raise just one—I felt a little jealous. “Safety speech? Like… how to throw a punch without breaking your hand?”
That was a part of it, but—“No, first and foremost I want to talk about safety in the gym. I know you’re here to work just with me,” I added, “and that’s fine.
” He was paying well for my time, and I was going to make it worth his while.
Still, I had to bring this part up. “But just practicing to fight can often be enough to get you really adrenalized, and when that happens it can be hard to think straight. You’re a pro athlete, so you’re probably a lot better at handling adrenaline than most people are, but what you need to remember, and what I’ll remind you, is that you’re here primarily to learn. Not fight.
“Getting amped up is just going to increase the chances of you getting fucked up.” Might as well go right out there and say it.
“It’s going to be a while before you punch more than a bag, so I want you to try and consciously relax as you train with me, okay?
You have nothing to prove.” I saw Ethan’s shoulders relax a bit at that, and I knew I was on the right track.
Young, fit guy like him, damn good at his game from what Carson told me—of course he felt like he had something to prove.
“When we’re working together in here, we’re a team. I’m on your side. So you don’t have to go hard or push yourself past your comfort zone until I tell you to, because that’s how you’ll get hurt, and I don’t want that.” Jesus, did I not want that. “That said, I’m a big guy.”
“Yeah, you are,” he muttered under his breath, then blushed a little. I grinned—that wasn’t the response I was going for, but I’d take it.
“I’m also more experienced when it comes to fighting, so don’t worry about me. I can almost guarantee you’re not going to hurt me no matter what, and I won’t get amped up unless you start swearing at me or bring a weapon into the school. You stay chill, I stay chill.”
“Has someone ever actually done that?” Ethan asked dubiously.
I shrugged. “This is Vegas, it’s full of people who like to test their luck.” Seriously, I’d had more people get up in my face since moving here than I ever did at home. They backed down quick enough, but it still sucked. “Any questions?”
“Um… ” He scratched the back of his head for a second, rucking up his dark hair. “Do you really think I can get good enough not to embarrass myself on the ice like that?”
“We all get embarrassed sometimes,” I replied. “But I can guarantee that you’re going to do a hell of a lot better.”
Ethan released a heavy breath, like he was shaking off a weight. “Okay,” he said, and nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.”
“Great. The first thing we’re going to work on is your frame.”
“What… do you mean by that, exactly?”
I extended my arm in front of him. “When it comes to a fight where you want to tie up with someone and hold them at a particular distance, you’ve got to have a good frame.
” I bent my elbow a little bit. “You want to keep an oblique angle here. That’s way stronger than once you get past ninety.
” I bent my arm further until the angle was acute.
“This is weak. It’s hard to maintain and it lets people throw you around.
I’ll show you what I mean.” I positioned his hands on my shoulders.
“I’m going to lean in on you, and I want you to hold me up,” I said.
“Oookay.” Ethan looked a little spooked, and I laughed.
“I’m asking you to hold me up, not pick me up.
You can do it, I promise. Here.” I bent his elbows a little.
“Now hold me up.” I leaned into him, and after bracing one leg back he did a decent job of keeping me at bay.
“Great, now let your elbows bend past ninety degrees.” He did, and immediately I crashed into his chest. He ended up with his back against the wall, me still leaning all my weight into him.
I felt his hands flex against my T-shirt and pushed down a frisson of interest.
Not the fucking time.
“Try and straighten your arms out again,” I said.
Ethan gave it a good shot, but he couldn’t.
After a few seconds, I pulled away and made space between us.
He was breathing a little heavy but seemed okay.
“Once you let that frame break, it’s hard to get it back,” I said.
“So that’s where we’re going to start—keeping your frame.
You need to be able to maintain your distance like a fucking boss in here if you’re going to be able to do it while sliding around on ice.
” Now that was some crazy shit. “You ready to go to work?”
Ethan grinned. When he did, everything about him went from nervous student to—
Oh damn. Was he cute? Did I think he was cute? I had a hard time knowing my own mind when it came to guys. I’d only ever acknowledged that I was attracted to men a few times. Women were easier to tell with, but this guy…
Yeah, he’s cute. Get over it, he’s your student.
“I’m ready.”
I shook off my revelation and got my head back in the game. “Good. Let’s start over here. I want you to brace on the bag, and I’ll shove it. Move your feet however you need to, but keep that frame, okay?”
“Got it.”
I put him on the body-length bag hanging from the ceiling in the corner of the gym, checked his stance, then gave it a push. Solid. I pushed harder. Still unmoved. “Good,” I said. “Let’s take it up a notch.”
We spent a solid half-hour working on his frame, with me doing everything from running into the bag to kicking it to rattling it back and forth on its chain.
Ethan got rocked a few times, but he mostly managed to maintain his position.
We moved on to the half-length pad next, with me closing the distance with it in my arms and him framing against it.
The last part of the session was him finally framing off my body, the way he would if he were in a game.
“Don’t put yourself in a good position to be punched,” I cautioned him as he framed off the front of my chest. “Until you’re more confident with your ability to punch back, you want to make it as hard for that asshole to hit you as possible.
You already know he’s going to be aiming for your face.
” No liver shots in hockey fights—their padding was too thick for it to be effective.
“So frame a little off to the side, like this. Make him have to cross the center-line to punch you, that’ll take the sting out of it even if he makes contact. ”
I put my hands on his shoulders and positioned him where I wanted him. “Right here,” I said, nestling his right forearm up until it was across my throat. “Feel good?”
“Ye—” Ethan stopped and cleared his throat. “Um, yeah.”
“Cool. Now maintain that frame, because I’m going to manhandle you a bit, okay?”
“Okay.” His voice had gone a bit squeaky—from nerves, I guess.
I took it easy to start, just moving us around the room without pushing too hard. It was almost like a dance at first, then I picked up the pace and started bearing into him. He handled that well, but then I put my hands on his waist and shoved, and he folded like a pair of scissors.
“Oh shit, ticklish?” I asked him.
“Ah, no.” His face was red. “Not—not so much, just—” His voice trailed off, which meant he was embarrassed about something. I checked the clock. The hour was almost up, so he was probably getting tired and didn’t want to admit it.
“Good job,” I said. “I know it probably doesn’t feel like much, but you made a really good start today.
This is the foundation that’s going to set you up to be immovable, so it’s pretty important.
We’ll get more into strikes soon, though.
” A thought occurred to me. “I don’t think we’ve set a schedule yet. How often do you want to meet?”
“How often do you have time?” Ethan countered.
“Most mornings. Tuesday and Thursday afternoons between two and six.” I shrugged. “Weekends are pretty flexible too.”
“I’ve got practice in the mornings,” Ethan said. “But I can be here by five on Tuesday and Thursday. Sundays are totally open.”
Today was a Tuesday, so… “This Thursday, then?”
“Perfect.”
“Great.” I held my hand out and he shook it firmly.
“And you’ve got homework,” I told him. “I want you to bring in three videos of hockey fights that stand out to you, and we’ll analyze them together and look at what works and what doesn’t.
I’m learning here too—fighting on ice knives sounds like hell to me, so I want to make sure I don’t steer you wrong. ”
His expression softened a little. “That’s nice of you.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” I joked.
“I’m not—I mean, I’m not surprised you’re nice, you look—nice.
Really, um, nice.” He shook his head. “Okay, I’m gonna go, but it was good to meet you and see you in two days.
” He spun around and headed for the edge of the mat, getting his shit together in record time.
“Bye, Carson!” he called out as he left the gym.
“See ya, Berns,” Carson called out as he came out of the office. We watched him leave, and then Carson turned to me with a huge grin on his face. “Dude! That was hard to watch.”
I frowned at him. “He’s not that bad,” I protested.
“Not the moves,” Carson said with a groan. “The crush!”
“What?” I wasn’t following.
“Ha, you can’t be that blind.” Carson’s grin dropped away. “Oh damn, you actually are. Jake. Ethan is into you.”
“No he’s not,” I said immediately, because Carson had to be wrong.
“Yeah, he is,” he replied. “I’ve hung out with him at our place, I’ve watched him skate dozens of times, I’ve seen him with fans, and he’s never acted like that before.”
“Like what?”
“Like a guy who’s so into the person he’s looking at that he forgets to breathe.”
“He was breathing just fine,” I muttered, but… now that I thought about it… “Shit, really?”
“Yeah, really! His whole ramble about you being ‘nice’ at the end there, I thought he was going to swallow his tongue.”
“Should I stop working with him, then?” Crushes happened in classes all the time, but Ethan was a private client. I wanted to make sure he got what he needed out of our sessions, and if he was distracted by being around me…
Or if I’m distracted being around him, let’s be honest.
Carson, to his credit, took my question seriously. “I think it’ll probably be okay. You’ll get used to each other and find a groove. And if it becomes, like, a thing, just let me know. I can step in and help if you need it.”
Well, shit. “You’re a better friend than I deserve.”
Carson clapped my shoulder. “I’m exactly the kind of friend you deserve. And hey, Beth has the mat tonight. You can join me and Marek for dinner and watch his brother kick ass in tonight’s game.”
Or I could go back to my apartment and eat dinner alone, then listen to a podcast on self-actualization and do some journaling like my therapist suggested I do every day. Then again… I did need to learn more about hockey. “Sounds good.”
If I was really going to help Ethan out, then I needed to learn as much as I could about his sport. It would be a nice break from agonizing over my own.