Nine
NINE
Cierra
I looked out at the sea of young children, a mix of expressions donning their faces. Some were excited, eager. Others, indifferent. And then there were those, just two of them, who were utterly bored.
I’d have loved nothing more than for the entire class to think this was the most thrilling experience of their lives, but I realized I couldn’t win them all. And considering it was Friday, and in the final minutes of the day before their weekend started, it was even more challenging. So, I’d take what I could get and be grateful for the fact that the majority seemed happy to be where they were.
“Okay, kids. We’ve got about fifteen minutes left to find the book you want to check out for the week, but here’s the challenge for this class.” I watched as they all seemed to perk up, even one of the children who looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else but in the library. “Like the characters in the book we just finished reading and discussing, the challenge is for you to be brave and willing to try something new. So, this week, you have two options. You can either choose one classmate you wouldn’t normally pair up with and allow that friend to pick the book for you, or you can stick to choosing the book on your own, but it needs to be a book you wouldn’t normally check out. No matter which way you decide to do it, Miss Locke and I will be coming around to help all of you. Does everybody understand what to do?”
All the students confirmed they did—some calling it out, while others merely nodded.
“Good. You can all go find your book now.”
There were about six students in my final class of the day who’d paired up, kids who wouldn’t have typically chosen one another if I allowed them to pick their closest friends, while the remaining children decided to accept this challenge on their own.
Most dispersed from the reading area and went in search of a book to check out, while a handful of them lingered there, waiting for assistance from myself or my paraprofessional, Raelynn, better known to the students as Miss Locke.
I kept myself entirely focused on answering any questions, guiding students in the right direction for the types of books they could choose for the week. As we went along and they found something, I noted how some of their expressions changed. Obviously, one of the things I’d learned was that reading something was better than reading nothing. And the last thing I wanted to do was put children who weren’t exactly thrilled about checking out a book to begin with in a place where they were even less willing to read, since the book wasn’t something that they’d normally choose.
I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t have any concerns about this exercise backfiring, and the kids winding up having a wasted week.
But as we went along, as Raelynn and I led them to new sections of the library and offered some suggestions, things changed. There seemed to be ripples of excitement in the air. As they all lined up at the desk to check out their book, I watched as they showed their friends what they selected.
This was what it was about for me. Seeing those reactions made me feel like I was making a difference in their lives. The way I saw it, the readers were always going to be readers. Even if the book they selected this week didn’t wind up being one of their favorites, it’d never stop them from picking up another book.
But if this exercise led a student who didn’t normally enjoy reading to suddenly finding the right book, the right genre, then that would be the biggest win.
We got the students’ books checked out, and as I closed the last book to hand back to the final student, their teacher arrived to take them back to their classroom. I wished them all a good weekend, and once they were gone, Miss Locke and I used the final few minutes of our day to clean up from the afternoon’s classes.
Afterward, I’d have to head outside for dismissal duty to make sure all the students got on their buses, or in the correct car for parent pick-up. Then, with everything else taken care of, I’d be able to head out, go home to change, and take off out the door again to get to my self-defense lessons.
Despite that tinge of hope that I’d had about Greyson reaching out to me yesterday, things hadn’t gone the way I’d envisioned. Given the way we’d teased one another about it at the end of our impromptu dinner together on Tuesday and again during our lessons yesterday, I had convinced myself he would want to keep our streak of connecting with each other every day going.
For a couple of days, it felt like a fun game between us. And while I hadn’t told him anything about my plans for yesterday, I had made it easy for him by staying home.
Greyson hadn’t sought me out—no doubt he could have easily gotten my address from Avalon—nor had he reached out over the phone.
I was bummed.
After all the buildup, I’d worked myself into a frenzy and made the effort to look cute yesterday, just in case.
But now that I was this close to finally seeing him again, I found myself mirroring many of the faces that had been in my final class of the day.
I was eager.
Part of me wished I’d brought my change of clothes to school with me, just so I wouldn’t need to make that extra stop at home, even if it was on the way.
I said goodbye to Raelynn and took off. And before I knew it, I was on my way to Harper Security Ops. When I strode in, Avalon wasn’t at her desk. But since this was my sixth lesson here, I knew I didn’t need to wait around and could head right to the training rooms.
As I made my way down that long corridor, the anticipation built. It wasn’t smart to allow myself to feel that giddiness I did about seeing him again, but it wasn’t like I could just turn it off, either.
Maybe that’s what he’d been trying to do yesterday. Maybe Greyson realized we shouldn’t have been getting comfortable with one another as we had been and decided it was best to put some distance between us.
No sooner had that thought entered my mind, it vanished.
No.
Greyson wasn’t that kind of guy. At least, he hadn’t shown me anything to indicate that was the case. In fact, everything I’d been given by him was quite the opposite.
I slowed my pace near the end of the hall and glanced to my right through the window that showed what was happening inside the training room. Greyson was there, speaking animatedly with Huck.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
Overall, Greyson was just a nice guy. I’d never seen him irritated or angry. He always seemed to be in a good mood. That was enough of a reason to find him so appealing. But there was more to him than just his pleasant demeanor.
He was patient and understanding. He was observant and knew when it was time to be serious or to have some fun. Judging by what I knew from what I’d seen and what he’d shared with me, it was clear his family and friends were important to him.
And, of course, there was the fact that he was undeniably handsome. As I stared at him through the window, I took in so much of him that I’d been taking in for days now. His handsome face, that warm smile, and kind eyes were perfection. But the muscled arms and strong physique had me experiencing things I couldn’t remember ever feeling before. I desperately wanted to be wrapped up in those arms, and I found myself curious about how it would feel to have the tips of those long, thick fingers caressing my skin.
A shudder ran through my body.
I shook my head as though trying to rid my mind of those thoughts. Getting through self-defense lessons wouldn’t go well if I was struggling to focus on the techniques Greyson wanted me to learn.
Tearing my attention away to get my head screwed on straight, I took a clearing breath. Then I turned, rounded the corner, and opened the door to the room.
I peeked my head inside, both Greyson and Huck turning to look at me. I smiled at them. “Hi.”
Huck jerked his chin up and moved in my direction. “Hi, Cierra. I was just leaving, so you can come in and get your lesson with Greyson started.”
I pulled the door open and stepped fully into the room, Huck coming to a stop just inside the door. He looked back at Greyson, offered a chin lift, and said, “Talk to you later, Grey. Enjoy your lessons.” Without giving my instructor a chance to respond, Huck looked at me, smiled, and walked out, leaving me alone with Greyson.
I took a few steps toward him, the eye contact sending shivers along my spine. Why hadn’t he called yesterday? Why hadn’t he tried to make contact with me?
“Hey.” That one word, a deep rumble, made my knees weak. I came to a stop just to be sure I wouldn’t crumble to the ground.
Not trusting myself to speak, I offered a simple nod in return.
“Are you feeling okay today?”
“I am.”
“That’s great. Because I think you’ve been doing so well with these techniques over the last couple of sessions we’ve had, and I think you’re ready for more.”
My brows shot up. “More?”
One half of his mouth quirked. “I think it’s time for us to move on to attacks.”
A cold feeling washed over me. “Attacks?”
Greyson chuckled and closed the distance between us until we were standing with no more than two feet separating us. “Not real attacks, of course. It’s one thing to learn different kicks or hand strikes and execute them the way you have been during the last couple of lessons, but it is something else entirely to implement them in a real-world situation. We need to work on you being prepared for such an attack.”
I swallowed hard. “How… how would that work?”
“We have multiple ways of doing it,” he started. “There’s preparation for attacks from the front or the back, and you’ll want to practice both scenarios, so you can be ready in any instance. Obviously, there’s a slight advantage for you with attacks from the front, since you’ll have some warning. But if someone sneaks up behind you, which is a very common way to attack, you need to know how to not panic and be able to free yourself.”
Greyson seemed very nonchalant about this, which I guess was to be expected, considering he did this for a living. But there was something about that word—attacks—that left me feeling so unsettled.
Not wanting him to think I was crazy or to start asking questions about what was going through my mind, I replied, “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”
Like it was second nature to him, Greyson reached out for my hand, gave my fingers a squeeze, and promised, “This is just practice. I would never hurt you, Cierra.”
I wanted to focus on the tenderness in his voice and the way his words made me feel, but I was too caught up in the way it felt to have his fingers touching mine. “I know.” My voice was barely a whisper.
He dipped his chin with approval. “Good. Are you ready to get started?”
“Sure.” I pulled my hand away and moved to the side to put my things down and take off my sweatshirt. I’d been focused on that, so when I turned around and found him watching me like he was, I asked, “What’s that look for?”
A slow smile spread across his face, one that had me so confused as to what went on inside his head. “Nothing. I’m just… I’m glad you’re here and ready for another lesson.”
My eyes narrowed slightly. Maybe I really had been imagining there being a bit of a spark between us. It was possible I’d made it all up in my head. If that was the case, it made sense why he hadn’t come to look for me yesterday.
Right.
I needed to forget about the attraction I felt and the signs I’d wrongly misinterpreted. I came here for one reason and one reason alone. Learning to protect myself from someone who would cause me harm was my sole goal.
“Well, then let’s get started,” I declared, tipping my chin up slightly as I crossed the room toward him again.
He remained frozen for a few beats, studying me with a questioning stare. Whatever was going through his mind, he didn’t share. Instead, he seemed to let it go and returned to the task at hand. “Alright, let’s get warmed up.”
Following a few minutes of warmup and stretching, we were ready to get started on the lesson.
“I think we’ll begin with face-to-face attacks first.”
I had no idea if that was a good thing or not. Greyson might have mentioned these attacks were easier to defend myself from in the sense that I could see an attacker as he or she approached, but he failed to take into consideration that I’d need to have eye contact with him throughout the lesson. And with each glance in those eyes, I’d be trying to read his thoughts.
“You’re the boss. What do I need to do?”
“Alright. Well, first, I assume you recall what I’ve told you is the most important thing when it comes to self-defense, right?”
Puffing up my chest, I proudly declared, “Situational awareness.”
One half of his mouth quirked, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling. “Right. Yes. I guess you’ve got me there. And that plays a significant role in a situation like this. But I was referring more to something that’s physically important.”
“Balance.”
Greyson’s mouth broke into a full-blown grin. “Exactly. And if having great balance is the one thing that’ll help you defend yourself, then getting your attacker thrown off balance will be the goal. You’re a petite woman. And while that doesn’t mean you aren’t capable of executing moves, the reality is that a man who’s got fifty, eighty, or even a hundred pounds on you, muscle or otherwise, is going to be a problem. This won’t be about besting him. It’s about doing what’s necessary to give yourself an advantage to get away. That’s it. That’s all.”
As much as I might not have liked it, as much as I wished I could defend myself against a fully grown man who had significant size and strength over me the same way Greyson would have been able to defend himself against that same person, I had to be smart. There were physiological differences, and I wasn’t so foolish to believe I could be the exception to the rule.
So, I dipped my chin with understanding. “How would I do that?”
“Momentum will be your friend, especially with someone substantially bigger than you,” he explained. “While it won’t always be the case, if someone is charging forward, if you see them coming, running toward you, use that to your advantage. You’ll want to step aside at the last possible second, reach out for his arm or clothing, whatever you can grab, and yank or pull as hard as you can in the direction he’s heading. He’ll have so much energy pushing him forward that when you do that, it’ll unbalance him. It’s likely he’s going to wind up going down. Then you run and get out of there as fast as you can.”
Nothing that Greyson had just said was difficult to understand, nor did it seem like it’d be particularly challenging to execute. But I worried about my ability to react so quickly in a situation like that. “Could we practice that?”
With a sweet smile on his face, he nodded. “Yes. And after you have a few minutes to practice that, we’ll work on frontal attacks that you don’t see coming or that won’t have the attacker carrying momentum. Those will be a bit more challenging.”
“Okay.”
For the next few minutes, Greyson set the stage, standing a few feet back from me to start, explaining he’d jog in my direction and that my goal was to sidestep him and do my best to reach out to unbalance him.
I tried.
I really did.
But it took me at least four tries just to evade him. Maybe that was a testament to just how good Greyson was at physical activity. It could have also just been simply the way it was with someone like me, someone who didn’t have the same level of athletic prowess.
By the sixth attempt, I’d managed to unbalance Greyson just enough. And for the next three attempts, I’d done well enough that Greyson turned around and didn’t just give me a high five alongside his words of encouragement.
Nope.
Greyson wrapped an arm around my back, his hand landing on the opposite shoulder, and curled me slightly toward his chest. “That was perfect. If I didn’t know what you planned to do, there’s no question you would have taken me down to the ground.”
I loved the closeness to him and felt my body come alive with the proximity. Greyson didn’t seem the least bit affected. “Thanks. I feel like I’m getting the hang of it.”
“Let’s try it one more time. Then we’ll move on.”
I agreed, and a moment later, I lost that protective hold Greyson had on me. The loss made my belly pitch with longing.
We tried the exercise one more time, and it was just as successful as the last attempt.
So, as he did with any new skill, Greyson didn’t overwhelm me. I knew I wasn’t finished practicing what I’d just learned, but he’d often shift to a different technique before returning to where we started. It was nice, because it broke things up.
The problem was that I didn’t anticipate where our lesson was headed.