“He likes anyone who takes him for midnight walkies,” I say, lying through my teeth.
Boo barely likes anyone. Even me.
Yet, for some ungodly reason, he’s taken a shining to Nate.
“Uh huh,” Nate says again.Damn. He knows I’m full of shit. “Whatever you say, West.”
Wherever we’re going, I know one thing: I’m totally screwed.
***
On the ride down here, I made jokes about the basement level of his building being a Batcave — turns out, I wasn’t that far off. In addition to a stockpile of weaponry and electronics in a massive locker on the far wall, there’s a sparring area with a punching bag and mats, and an honest-to-god shooting range set up on the other side of the space. It looks like a bowling alley with four separate lanes, except instead of pins there are hanging paper targets at the end of each strip.
“Do you live above Knox Investigations?” I ask after a few seconds of looking around with wide eyes.
His gaze cuts to me and he nods sharply.
“Sleep on the second floor…. Batcave in the basement….” I tilt my head. “What’s on one?”
“Control room,” he says succinctly. The stubborn set of his jaw tells me I’ll get no more out of him on the subject.
“What are we doing down here?”
His arms cross over his chest, making his muscles bulge. “I’m going to teach you how to protect yourself.”
“What?” My heart beats too fast as I eye the sparring matts, picturing me and Nate rolling around there, hands all over each other as he teaches me his moves.
In my fantasy version of this scenario, we may or may not be naked. And hismoveshave very little to do with the rules of jiu-jitsu.
Danger!
Realizing I’ve been lost in my lusty thoughts, I force myself to tune back in.
“…just a few basic defensive techniques,” Nate is saying. “How to break out of an attacker’s hold, how to use your stature to your advantage, things like that.”
“Mystature?” My eyes narrow. “Was that a dig at my height? I’ll have you know, I may be petite but I’m agile. Must I remind you of my karate chop skills?” I drop into a crouch, hand-blades extended. “Ninja, remember?”
His lips twitch and he shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweat pants, tugging them further down his hips so a slice of taut flesh appears beneath the hem of his tight black t-shirt. I catch a flash of tan skin and dark hair before I force myself to look away.
Oh boy.
“Yeah, comforting as that is….” He suppresses a laugh. “You’re tiny. You’re never going to overpower a full grown man.” His eyes narrow. “But that won’t matter if you know how to outmaneuver them.”
I stare at him for a long moment, saying nothing.
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” he points out, after a minute passes in silence. “I expected more objecting. A temper tantrum. Some whining. A little foot-stomping.”
Well!
“I don’t have temper tantrums,” I mutter. “And I only have one question.”
His eyes are crinkly and warm. “Yeah? What’s that?”
I take a step toward him, eyes never shifting from his face. “Just to be clear… you’re going to teach me defensive techniques.”
He nods, looking at me like I have a few screws loose.
“And to teach me these moves… we’re going to be on those mats.” I gesture at the sparring area.