13. Chapter 10
Mari
“ G et a drink!” Chance squirted water into his mouth, a few droplets falling loose onto his grey shirt.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Timer’s on!” He pointed the long, slim remote at the clock to start the countdown. “Grab a partner!”
Glancing around the room, my stomach dropped and filled with butterflies at the same time.
Everyone else had a partner, except …
“Trevino,” Chance called, that cocky smirk lifting his lips as he beckoned me forward with two fingers, “you’re with me.”
My wrestling boots pattered as I walked over to the middle mats he was occupying. His arms fell relaxed by his sides, his face that fusion of arrogance and superiority. The smirk on his lips was long gone, his head dipped slightly to the side.
He reached a hand to slap and bump, signalling an unofficial beginning. I immediately reached one back but locked it in a tight grasp around his extended wrist instead. Pushing my opposite arm behind his tricep, I drove my weight through and moved around so we were standing parallel.
Too parallel.
Chance pummelled his arm through to an overhook, and in half a second I was flying.
Rolling over his hip, I threw my arm out at the very last second to catch the momentum of my fall.
The impact knocked the air out of me, but I refused to stop.
I pushed my foot onto his thigh and spun myself to square with him.
Hooking my feet behind his knees, I used my hands as a wedge and drove my hips up and over, forcing him to fall on his ass.
The second he hit the mat, I knew he’d let me have it.
He sprung up so fast— sliding a hand over my inner thigh and cupping my hip, setting enough pressure on it that I couldn’t move.
He caught my counter before I struck, taking an undergrasp grip on my opposing wrist and pinning my arm down with his weight.
I struggled against him, fighting for any inch of movement.
But he’d completely disarmed me. The corners of his lips tipped up in satisfaction.
“What next, Sunny?” he asked, cockiness and victory lacing every word.
With a very unladylike growl, I shoved my top wrestling boot into the gap next to his inner thigh, freeing my bottom leg and pushing the other foot on his knee.
Using his undergrasp grip against him, I laced my top arm over his in a semi-tight overhook.
Semi-tight because his arms were gigantic, and I could barely get one of mine over his.
Mustering a push-pull motion with my legs, Chance landed flat on his back as I straddled him, holding on to the arm I’d isolated in as much of a death grip as I could muster.
A low rumble skittered through Chance’s chest, and I was being rolled over the overhook I’d grabbed to sweep him, the arm now trapped and leaving me unable to post out on it.
It was my turn to land flat on my back, and Chance rolled directly between my legs, hips higher than mine and pinning them down once again.
“You need to use moves less predictable than that if you have an opponent coming after you,” he said lowly, his face so close to mine a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead onto my chest. It smelled of everything Chance—salt, fresh air, and authority.
He must have caught onto my confusion,
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the little rat we have in here,” he hissed, completely bypassing the heat I knew was burning in my eyes from his proximity.
Stupid flaring libido .
I froze. The only person he’d called rat was Jayden.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feigned innocence, trying to force it into my face, though my heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.
Chance let out a laugh that was anything but happy.
“If that’s how you want to play it, Trevino, then so be it.” He stood and the timer beeped loudly.
People around the room scattered apart and started to run along the edges of the mat space.
“I’ll play cat and mouse for a little while longer.”
I waited for that smirk to dance on his lips, for some sort of amusement to flash over his face. It never came. His face as he joined JJ in the running line reflected one thing—death’s grace. This wasn’t Coach Chance on the mats for rounds tonight—it was light heavyweight fighter Chance Riordan.