Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“You came,” he says.
I take Oliver’s hand. “If you still have time and are willing, Oliver would love a few pointers.” Soren turns back to the man assisting him and says something, and the man leaves the ring.
“Of course. Care to get up here with me, little man?” Oliver nods his head eagerly as he climbs into the ring. “We have to warm up first, okay? You should always make sure your muscles are ready for whatever you are about to do.”
Oliver hangs on every single word Soren says to him.
Noah and I stand back as we watch them warm up, then the man from earlier comes out with a pair of small boxing gloves and hands them to Oliver.
“Oliver likes him,” Noah comments, and I nod. I know he does. The way he watches Soren and listens to him… He never listens to us that intently. With a glow in his eyes, as if he’s eating up every single word. “And he certainly keeps you on your toes,” he jokes.
I hear Soren tell him not to use any of these moves on anyone, and Oliver nods in agreement. We stay there for a good hour, until Oliver starts getting tired. Soren notices and pats him on the shoulder, telling him he did a good job. Oliver climbs down and immediately runs up to us. We tell him he did a fantastic job, and he thanks Soren again before Noah takes him home.
“Get up here,” Soren says to me.
“Why would I do that?” I ask. Looking around, I notice there’s no one else in the gym. “Why is it so empty?”
“Because I told everyone to leave.”
“You have that power?”
“Yes, it’s my gym.” He holds out a hand to me, and I take it. Then he helps me climb between the ropes, and as soon as my heels hit the ring, he bends down and starts removing them. “Barefoot in my ring, please.” I let him take them off, and he places them to the side.
“Spread your feet, dominant foot slightly back,” he instructs, and I do as he says, even wearing a skirt, which he finds amusing. “Curl your fingers tightly into your palms, elbows tucked in.” He touches my elbow. “Now, try to hit me.”
I relax my hands and shake my head. “I’m not hitting you.”
“Hurricane, you won’t be able to land a blow, so throw those punches.” And the cocky bastard winks.
Fuck it! I ball my hands into fists and swing at him. And just like he anticipated, I completely missed. A smile plays on his lips, and it makes me even madder. I’ve been in many fights, mainly with my sisters, but I’ve never gone toe-to-toe with someone who has actual boxing experience.
I adjust my stance, then indicate for him to come closer with a crook of my finger. He raises a brow, and at first, I don’t think he’ll do it. But as he steps closer to me, I keep my eyes trained on his, and I reach around his neck with one hand. He allows it because it means I’m pressing against his body. He thinks I’m going to kiss him, but that’s not what I’m going to do at all. As my fingers skim the back of his neck, I punch him hard in his stomach with my other fist. He grunts loudly, then a slow and sinister smile curves at the edges of his lips.
And I know I made a mistake.
The blow probably didn’t even affect him.
But then I remember how he was injured, and my hands fly to my mouth.
“I’m sorry! Shit, are you okay? I forgot about your injuries,” I fret.
He grabs me around the waist, and I’m helpless to stop him as he lifts me and then lowers me to the floor so he’s now hovering over me, his knees bracketing me in, but not touching, and yet I feel him everywhere.
“I’m fine.”
“But your ribs,” I say, and without thinking, my hands go to his ribs. He doesn’t flinch at my touch.
His gray eyes seem to soak in all the features of my face, and the way he’s looking at me makes me a little insecure. That is, until he cups my cheek, and I instantly feel something more than I should.
“I’ll be fine,” he assures me. “You’re sneaky, though. Stabbing people, distracting them, and then using your powers.” He winks.
“Whatever it takes to win,” I say.
“Is that right?”
“Yup. Now let me up,” I tell him.
“Now, why would I do a thing like that?”
“Because…”
“Because?” he questions, his attention locked on my lips.
I have nothing left to give.
His gaze won’t stop flicking between my lips and eyes, as if he’s asking for permission.
“Soren,” someone says.
His body tenses. I feel it under my palm. He’s on his feet in a flash, holding his hand out to help me up. I set my palm in his, and he pulls me up.