There was an underlying promise of vengeance in his words that sent a little chill through me. This guy didn't even know me, and I'd very intentionally not allowed myself to know him for the last eight weeks. What could he possibly want retribution for?
“Nope,” I replied cheerily. “Tiptop over here.” I leaned forward again, affecting a casual air. “Do you have any plans for opening a self-defense class in the next week or two?”
His gaze narrowed. “What do you need?”
The blood of my enemies, I wanted to say. What do you think I need?
I quelled the burst of inner sarcasm. My bad mood had nothing to do with Benjamin Mercedy. Actually, scratch that. It did. The quiet power in the way he held himself, his muscular frame, and the unassuming way he lived his life was all way too attractive for me to deal with constructively. Here was a human that never had to worry about defending himself.
Instead of answering, I glanced back to the equipment sprinkled through the gym. My gaze lingered on the lifting equipment, treadmills, and a few other things against the far wall, near the mirrors.
Actually, his question had been a fair one. There were different types of self-defense, from what my quick online perusal showed. What did I need? Confidence. I needed confidence. Power. Quick reflexes. I needed to be a fighter, and all of that sometime before 3:00 pm tomorrow when Amber showed back up.
“Safety,” popped out of my mouth instead.
He lifted the other eyebrow.
“Wait, stop. I take that back.” I waved my hands in the air, thoroughly annoyed now. The smell of marinara and chicken carbonara wafted through the air as I tried to fix this. “Ignore my dramatics. I'm in a safe . . . well, mostly safe . . . situation. I just need to be able to defend myself for a few more weeks.” My voice elevated a pitch too high. “Not a big deal!”
He stayed cool when he asked, “The one that hit you already?”
“Yes, if you must know,” I ground out, then pointed to him. “And he is not my boyfriend or my fiancee or my husband so don't even go there. I'm not a victim. He's not . . . an attacker either. It was all an accident. I think,” I tacked on, then regretted it when his lips tightened.
Except I was sort of a victim in the way that any woman would be against a much larger man she couldn't exactly escape. Or his crazy girlfriend, but that was a whole other bottle of worms. The murky details didn’t matter.
Benjamin frowned. “Look, our roster is full. There's literally no mat time available to host a self-defense class.”
A curse word slipped out under my breath, but before I could back away, he held up a hand.
“But maybe you and I could figure something out.”
“What does figure something out mean?”
He tilted his head to the side. “I'll teach you a few things. Self-defense isn't that hard to get started with. We'd need an hour, tops, to cover the basics.”
“That fast? Really?”
He nodded. Despite having a larger-than-life presence with his body, he had a calm way about him. Quiet. Just the way he lived. Powerhouse on the mat, quiet as a calm summer day otherwise. Coming in here had been one of the hardest things I'd ever done, and some days, that was saying something. I appreciated the calm mein more than he'd ever know.
“Why?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Let's just say I'm a sucker for a damsel-in-distress.”
Three seconds passed while I comprehended that comment. Then my blood boiled. For three more seconds, I saw the world in shades of red. Is this how Talmage felt? Is this why I had a big fat lip? Some genetic predisposition to instant rage when helpful people were just trying to help?
Maybe I had too much pride.
Or maybe that was just a dumb thing to say.
Without realizing it, I had taken a step back sometime between the word distress and my indrawn breath of rage. His eyes widened.
“Then find someone else to rescue,” I snapped. “This damsel can save herself . . . with a few well-placed self-defense lessons from someone that isn't you,” I added for good measure. “I have some pride, no matter what you've judged of me.”
I spun and shoved out the door.
Cool spring air washed down my face as I headed for the mountain bike I'd parked close to the