Chapter 4 #2
“Pair up. Wrist-control drills.” I gripped a taller player’s wrists, twisting and redirecting him just enough to make him stumble. “Think of this like the line of scrimmage. Control the hands, control the player, and the play’s yours.”
They tried to mimic me. Most fell awkwardly, some laughed, and a few cursed. I moved between them; correcting grips, shifting weight, and every so often letting one of them overcommit, sending them sprawling.
The gym echoed with groans and laughter.
“Your turn, Australia,” someone called, nudging Kai forward with a grin.
So that's where his accent was from!
He blinked, glancing at me. “You serious?”
Raising an eyebrow, I acknowledged him for the first time. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
“Not scared.” He stepped onto the mat with his shoulders squared. “Just don't want to embarrass my neighbors.”
I struggled to contain a smile when he winked at me. “We’ll see about that.”
He was taller and heavier than most guys I trained with — solid muscle in motion. My guard went up instinctively as his dark, steady eyes fixed on me.
I was not here to be a showpiece. But the second he reached for me, the air shifted. Ducking low, I spun under his arm and swept his leg. He hit the mat with a thud, the breath audibly rushing out of him.
Rather than displaying the embarrassment his teammates had shown, he let out an easy, unbothered, breathless laugh. Hearing that sound made something hit low in my stomach, causing my focus to waver. I reminded myself to stay professional and keep him at arm’s length.
Kai scrambled back up faster than most, his eyes alight with something I couldn’t name.
“Holy shit! I think I’m in love,” he panted. “You’re dangerous.”
“And you’re slow,” I shot back, though it came out softer than I intended.
We circled each other with our hands up, and the sparring match began. It was supposed to be a demonstration, but there was too much awareness and heat in our proximity. Each step, each pivot, each slight contact sent electricity skimming across my nerves.
My brain kept barking orders at me to maintain distance and control the center but my chest betrayed me with a different kind of pulse.
Kai’s grin widened as he lunged again. The mat became a game neither of us wanted to lose; each move was loaded with both challenge and … something else.
This time, Kai's lunge was more deliberate; he was trying to test my reactions rather than simply following the moves. I blocked, pivoted and jabbed at his shoulder, just enough to make him shift his weight.
He grinned wildly, as though he hadn’t expected someone to push back like this.
“Not bad.” I circled him. “Keep your balance. Don’t just throw your weight around.”
He stepped in closer, invading my personal space, and his arm brushed against mine. My stomach twisted, but not with fear. It was the awareness of how different this felt.
Too close, too fast, too charged. I ducked low, spun under his arm, and swept his leg again.
This time, he hit the mat with a surprised laugh. As he rolled to his feet, however, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he came at me again, his eyes locked on mine.
Each of our movements became a wordless conversation. I was supposed to teach and demonstrate and keep him safe, but the heat of our proximity made it difficult to separate professionalism from instinct.
“You’re quick,” he panted, grinning widely, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something more than admiration.
His black hair fell into his forehead in soft, slightly wavy strands that never quite behaved, always framing his face, no matter how many times he brushed them back. Somehow, he was all the more distracting for this imperfection.
“And you’re … not terrible,” I said, my voice carrying a teasing edge I hadn't intended.
We moved in a slow circle, each testing the other. He tried a low sweep, then a snap to my forearm, his hand brushing mine just enough to make my pulse spike. Not that I wanted it to. This was sparring, not a … whatever this was turning into.
Yet, as I pivoted and danced out of his reach, I realized the thrill wasn't just from the fight. It was him. It was the way he moved, the way he responded and the way he looked at me.
And he was grinning. God, his grin was infuriating.
Kai lunged again, this time with more force, a playful snarl tugging at the corners of his mouth. I blocked and spun under his arm, but he didn’t retreat. He pressed forward, forcing me to pivot faster and shift my weight against his.
The mat beneath us seemed to shrink; every time our bodies brushed and I scrambled for balance, my pulse spiked in ways I didn’t want.
“You’re aggressive.” Smirking, I ducked low and caught his wrist. “Careful, or I’ll start thinking you like this too much.”
He laughed breathlessly, a low, wild sound that resonated deeper than I expected. “Maybe I do,” he shot back, his eyes glinting and the same challenging grin lighting up his face.
We circled each other again, this time more closely, each step a careful negotiation, and he matched me move for move. The sparks between us were impossible to ignore as our hands brushed and our shoulders collided.
Every glance, every subtle shift of his weight, carried something electric.
I told myself to stay professional. This was my job, after all, and he was no different to any of my other students. But the way he moved, the way he laughed when I got the upper hand and the way his eyes never left mine was different.
Kai lunged for a sweep and I reacted instinctively, dropping my hips and stepping into his attack. I redirected his momentum with my grip, allowing him to hit the mat lightly.
My breath caught. He was too close. There was a charged energy between us, and I clenched my teeth as a deep throb swept through my core.
“Better,” I muttered, trying to sound casual while my brain scrambled.
“Better?” he echoed, grinning wider, his chest rising and falling with each breath. “You’re not easily impressed, hey?”
I rolled my eyes but was unable to hide my own grin. “We haven’t seen anything impressive yet.”
Reaching down, I offered him a hand. He took it, his palm rough and warm.
“Didn’t think you’d actually get me on the ground this fast,” he admitted.
“Didn’t think you’d stay down for so long.”
Kai’s disarming grin widened. “Careful, Tori. Keep talking like that and I’ll think you like having me under you.”
“Dream on, Rugby Boy.”
He laughed and shook his head. For a second — just a second — I wanted to laugh with him.
The gym around us faded into the background. It was just him, me, and the mat beneath our feet, pushing boundaries in a way neither of us could ignore.
We circled again, closer this time, and I swept his leg. He hit the mat with a thud, but he rolled cleanly and sprang back onto his feet as if it were nothing. There was an odd glimmer in his dark eyes, contradicting his easy-going smile and laid-back attitude.
“Come on.” I adjusted my braid with a smirk. “Work on your balance.”
Kai grinned, brushing off his shoulder, completely unfazed. “Just trying to let you feel like you’re winning.”
I laughed. “Cute. But it’s my turn to teach you a lesson.”
With a lunge I blocked his reach and twisted him just enough to unbalance him once more. He scrambled to regain his balance but didn’t flinch or snap; he just shifted, his eyes locked on mine and his grin widening.
He wasn’t intimidated. On the contrary, he was enjoying this, which made the thrill coursing through my veins even worse.
We locked in again, moving like a blur, pushing, pivoting and brushing against each other. It wasn't sparring anymore; it was more like a dance, each of us testing limits and measuring reactions.
Each step, each touch and each locked gaze was charged with meaning.
“Yo, Oz! Don’t let her turn you into a mat ornament.”
We froze mid-move, our muscles still coiled. Kai chuckled softly and completely unshaken. “Right,” he said, grin still in place, “that was … fun.”
I wiped sweat from my brow, forcing a neutral expression. “Right.”
The noise of the gym crept back in, but the tension didn’t fade, and somewhere between us, the spark refused to die.