CHAPTER THREE

I collapsed onto the floor, panting, Reid following suit.

“Okay, you weren't kidding when you said you sucked.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I told you. If Marcus couldn't teach me, I doubt anyone can.” He looked down between his legs, propping his elbows on his knees as he sat up.

The short silver-gray streaks at the tips of his hair fell over his face, and I had to resist the urge to reach over and run my hands through it.

Even with sweat coating his body, he looked as attractive as ever. The media didn't do him justice. If his fans met him in real life, they'd be obsessed like I was becoming—just from spending the last two hours with him.

He ran a hand down his stubbled, well-defined jaw, then buried his fingers in his hair, pushing it back slightly. “I'm really sorry I took up your time.”

I shook my head, though he wasn't looking to see it. He had no idea he'd just made my day. After all, I was pretty much a loner, and Marcus letting me off early today had felt more like a curse than a blessing.

I lifted a hand to rest it on his knee. “Honestly, it took me four years to get where I am today.”

He snorted. “Wow, way to call me useless without actually saying it. It took you four years to earn a brown belt, and here I am, still struggling to learn the basics, let alone earn a belt.”

Okay, that wasn't exactly the encouragement I'd planned. I'd actually forgotten I’d lied. The truth was, it took me five years to get where I was—earning a blue belt. Normally, that would take three or four years, and maybe two if you were a fast learner. But because of my background, I'd been slower, so it took me five years. Now Reid thought I'd earned a brown belt in that time.

I forced a smile, already feeling awkward that I'd made him feel worse.

“You know, martial arts isn't easy.. It takes real courage and determination to handle the pain and training. I think you're doing great, especially since you could hire bodyguards and skip the struggle altogether but still want to learn. I admire that.”

He put a grateful hand over mine. “Thanks.” Then he pulled away and stood up. “But it doesn't change the fact that I suck. If I got attacked at a press conference or something, I doubt your words of encouragement would save me.” He sighed. 

I stood up, my eyes on him. “Come on, don't be so hard on yourself. It's only been a day. Tomorrow, I'll come up with better ways to teach you. Promise.”

He smiled, reaching for the mop stick. “Then I guess that's a wrap. I'll just finish up here before I head out. See you tomorrow.

Before I could say anything, he turned, pulled the mop from the water, and resumed mopping.

I could tell he was still disappointed. I wanted to hug him or offer to stay and train for another hour, but I doubted any of that would make him feel better. So, instead, I turned and  walked out, not bothering to wave goodbye.

*******

By the time I stepped out of the academy, the sun had already set, and the sky had transformed into shades of pink and orange hues, making it look like a giant canvas a talented artist had painted. I looked up and smiled.

To think I’d meet Reid at the academy, of all places. Seattle had countless other fighting academies better suited for someone of his status. Yet here he was, at Cascadia Self-Defense Academy— a place that didn’t even have much of a reputation.

And Marcus letting me off early today? It felt like the universe was at work, bringing the right people into my life just when I needed them.

“Thank you.” I whispered up at the sky, adjusting the strap of my bag as I began heading toward my house.

I smiled the entire walk, my mind replaying our short sparring session. The way he kept apologizing every time I managed to land a hit because he left himself unguarded, or how he never got angry, even when it seemed like I was doing more hitting  than actually teaching him. Who knew someone so wealthy could be so down-to-earth?

I'd always thought love at first sight was just a fantasy, but if I was being honest, that might be exactly what had just happened to me. Maybe it was love….or maybe I was just taken in by his humble demeanor and mistaking it for love.

“Yeah, that's it,” I muttered to myself. A woman walking past me gave me a funny look, and I simply smiled back, not caring if she thought I was crazy.

A car honked loudly behind, snapping me out of my thoughts. I realized I'd wandered off the sidewalk and onto the road.

“Sorry!” I called as the driver shot me an annoyed look before driving on.

I didn't care. I’d just trained with Reid Windsor. There was nothing that could spoil the rest of my day.

I turned onto another street, heading toward a bar just up the road. As I got closer, I pushed open the glass doors, greeted by the smell of alcohol and disinfectant.

The person I was there to see was behind the bar, wiping down the tables.

“Aye, it's not opening hours yet!” He yelled, looking up toward the door.

As soon as he saw me, he dropped the cloth and came over.

“Hey, Osborn, what's up?” Fitz, my friend and bar attendant, extended a hand, and I clapped it, bumping our shoulders together in our usual way of greeting.

“Crazy stuff, Fitz, crazy stuff.” I was about to tell him all about my encounter with Reid when my phone buzzed. “Hold on a sec.”

“Sure.” He walked away to finish wiping down the bar stools and tables.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, swiping it open to see who’d texted. The G***l logo appeared in my notification bar, half of the message previewed below it.

I tapped it, feeling the color drain from my face as I read the subject line: Loan forbearance period ended– Action required.

“Fitz,” I called, my excitement deflating like a punctured balloon.

“Yeah?” He looked up.

“What's the strongest drink you've got?”