Authors: Cat Phoenix
He
was pretty far away from me but even so, I could see that he had blue eyes and
they were sharp on my face. I had to school my features to keep from giving
anything away, like how my nerves intensified under his gaze and I also kind of
wanted to drool. I was irritated at just how closely I was checking the guy
out. Fucking hell, what was the matter with me? I saw attractive men every
day and never reacted like this.
Maybe
it was just first day nerves.
Though,
I didn't have this reaction to anyone else, even Ross, who was nice looking and
seemed like he was relatively young, about twenty five, and openly checked out
my legs. Yeah, my peripheral vision works just fine, buddy.
I
couldn't make myself look away from Probably Ethan. There was a vague tickling
in the back of my brain, trying to make itself known. He bent down to swipe a
towel off the ground and raised it to his face as he pivoted around to look
right at me. I saw his profile again, mid-pivot, and it slammed into me.
His
eyes found mine again and flicked down to my lips when I whispered, "Son
of a bitch!"
He
smirked at me knowingly and I narrowed my eyes at him. Probably Ethan was New
Guy, from the almost-robbery yesterday! All of a sudden, I was very irritated
and vaguely embarrassed, all because of him. This guy was one of Brooks'
minions, he saw my (probably sloppy) handiwork, and told the cops I got lucky.
Arrogant bastard.
I
had questions for Brooks, too. Did he set up the whole thing yesterday to
manipulate me? And why was Ethan there before Brooks?
I
wanted to turn on my heel and dramatically storm off, which I've never done or
wanted to do in my life. I also had a strong urge to open the door and cuss
him out. But I didn't do either of these things. Instead, I kept glaring at
him, which only seemed to amuse him further and make me angrier.
"Are
you okay?" a voice asked.
So
focused on trying to drill holes into Probably Ethan's head with my eyes, I
didn't even notice that someone approached me. Man, I was getting sick of that
but I
was
new to a nest of spies. Maybe I should get used to it.
I
turned and saw Ross looking concerned. I wiped my face clean of irritation and
said, "I'm fine."
Ross
didn't look convinced, but he let it slide. "You need to be up here and
ready to begin tomorrow by nine a.m. You and I will make a new workout routine
for you to include more muscle building routines, and then after that we'll
start you in on basic hand to hand combat skills."
"Is
there an ice machine here?"
He
chuckled and said, "Industrial sized."
"Well,
isn't that convenient?" I said with a small laugh.
I
glanced back at Probably Ethan to find him watching our exchange with a blank
face.
I
looked back at Ross in time to see him nod his head and repeat, "Nine
a.m." He turned for the stairs and I kept the small smile on my face as I
resolutely ignored Ethan and made for the stairs, myself.
Landing
back on the second floor and relieved that I was out of reach from that Ethan
guy, I relaxed into a stroll and began to explore the house more fully,
creating a kind of map I could mentally recall later.
I
eventually wandered back to my bedroom and bored, decided to read for a bit. I
didn't want to bring the bulk of books with me, so I just brought my digital
tablet that was filled with electronic books on my Kindle application. I read
for at least a few hours before I became restless and decided to unpack the
electronic gadgets I brought with me. I set up my laptop and small speaker
system that played music from my mp3 player on the desk. The dresser was
directly in front of the bed, so I moved the flat screen TV from the desk to
the dresser and placed my gaming system beside it. I was stacking the games
when a knock sounded at the door.
"Hey,
Brooks sent me to tell you it's time for supper," Oliver said.
"Already?"
I asked.
Oliver
walked into my room, eyes riveted on my leaning tower of games.
"You
have seriously good taste in games," he said, awe coloring his voice.
"You
play?"
"Only
when I have someone to play against. The others don't play against me that
much because, not to brag, they get tired of never really winning."
I
laughed at that and said, "Looks like you just got a new opponent, and not
to brag, but I'm good."
"Who
do you play against?"
"Online
friends."
He
scoffed and said, "Big fish, little pond." Then he smiled a little
menacingly. "Welcome to the ocean." And then he turned on his heel
and left the room, sweeping out dramatically.
I
had to laugh at his theatrics. Okay, so the kid thought he was good. I was
still relatively young and I lived alone. With no overwhelming social life, I,
unfortunately, had a lot of time on my hands. We would see who would be
crowned winner later, and I was feeling pretty confident.
Gwen
cooked chicken strips and vegetables for supper, and my mouth was watering
before I even made it to the table. I sat down without looking away from my
plate and tensed when I saw a hand reach for a napkin in my peripheral vision.
It
was a big, manly looking hand.
My
head whipped up and I saw Probably Ethan sitting next to me. We weren't close
to touching, and I didn't want to make a scene, so I very slowly slid down and
put some space between us. Enough space for someone to sit comfortably in.
Ethan turned his head slowly to look at me, and I tried to control my reaction
to him, but I felt my eyes narrow on his anyway. A muscle tensed in his cheek
and he stared back at me defiantly.
Everything
about this guy set me on edge and I didn't like it at all. The way he carried
himself was so confident, it was borderline cocky. He was the strongest guy in
the room and he knew it. He seemed so relaxed and comfortable in his
environment which conversely made me tense up. Usually when someone was relaxed,
it set the tone for the atmosphere in the room, but there was just something
about him I couldn't put my finger on that raised my hackles. And it wasn't
just that he was ridiculously good looking and a bit of an asshole. I mean,
who says ‘
She got lucky’
to a cop in a room full of people who were just
at the other end of a gun? Not everyone is that cavalier about danger.
We
were locked in a stare down and I saw Oliver approaching the table in the
distance, so when he neared, without breaking eye contact with Ethan, I said,
"Hey Oliver, why don't you sit here?"
Oliver
came to a standstill by me and I looked at him, masking my anger and nodding my
head to the empty space between us. He looked between our faces, shrugged, and
sat down.
The
adults were sitting at their table already, but Spencer and August were still
making their plates and drinks.
"Hey
Ethan, Alex has a killer game collection. We're going to play later. You
should join us."
"I
only have two player games," I said quickly. I cut my eyes to Definitely
Ethan, and I know he felt the unfriendly vibe I was sending him.
"We'll
take turns," Oliver said.
"I
can't tonight anyway, Oliver," Ethan said, eyes on mine. "Got more
important things to do than play video games."
God,
what an arrogant bastard.
"Careful,"
I warned in a low voice. "Be any more obvious and there won't be any
lines to read between."
His
glare intensified and his eyes scanned my torso, sizing me up. I zeroed in on
the obvious difference between us.
"You
got a problem losing to girls?" I baited him. "Or do you not have
any experience in that department at all?"
This
guy set me on edge, sure, but I eventually found my footing and mercilessly
went on the offensive. He may have had the sword, but I had the pen.
A
muscle jumped at his jaw "What's your problem?" he bit out.
"You,"
I clipped.
His
brow furrowed and we turned glaring into an art form.
"Guys,"
Oliver stressed. "Chill."
We
both snapped out of it and remembered that Oliver was between us. He looked
confused and upset and I instantly regretted asking him to sit between us.
Ethan glanced at him and back to me as he muttered a low, "Whatever,"
before focusing on his plate and ignoring the rest of us for the remainder of
the evening.
I
felt kind of like a jerk but at least now he would know that just because I was
the only age appropriate female around, I wasn't going to fall at his feet.
Asshole.
I
walked up the flight of stairs, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Damn kid had
me up later than I should have stayed, playing video games. I was going to
work out, so I dressed accordingly, wearing what I normally wore to the gym --
my favorite tennis shoes, black shorts, a black sports bra and, the only splash
of color on me, a purple racerback tank top.
I
knotted my hair into a ball on the top of my head and heaved open the door to
the gym. I saw Ross and Brooks huddled by a treadmill, speaking quietly. The
door shut behind me and they both looked in my direction and smiled.
"Ross
is going to create a workout plan for you today and help get you started.
Because you're more or less new to combat training, we'll set you up for
individual tutoring at first. I know you're used to working out alone, so it
may take some getting used to, but Ross is really very good at what he
does."
I
looked at Ross dubiously, not because I doubted his abilities, but because I
wasn't all that pumped up to change my routine. It worked out pretty well for
me so far, and I didn't know if they did yoga, or even thought it was useful.
But
I said, "Okay," and then yawned.
Ross
and I talked for a minute, going over what I was accustomed to doing, and then
we went over what he wanted me to do. I ran for an hour on the treadmill like
I usually did, and then he added in some weight training and cardio, along with
a few sets of good old fashioned push and sit ups just for kicks and giggles.
Apparently not wanting to overwhelm me too soon, we planned on adding on more
later. And this was all a "warm up" to combat training.
Yay.
By
the time I did the last sit up, my abs, not used to vigorous, repetitive
movement, were screaming at me, as were my arms and upper back muscles. After
he called out the last rep, I sprawled out flat on the floor and just focused
on my breathing. I liked yoga because it was about strength and control. This
workout regimen, in comparison, was about strength and agility. I knew I'd
find my footing and regain my control eventually, but right then, all I could
think about was the loose strands of hair sticking to my face and neck and how
much I felt like taking a nap.
Ross
was laughing at the tortured expression on my face, but the kind way he was
doing it made it feel like he was laughing with me instead of at me. He
offered me a hand up and I took it, sure that I'd be unable to get to my feet
without assistance. He handed me my water bottle and I drank some as we
crossed the hall and joined the others in the studio.
He
walked to the opposite side they were all on and stopped at the punching bag.
I looked around the room and memorized the layout. To the right of the room,
where we were, there was a wall of glass windows and French doors that opened
up to a moderately sized balcony. A wall of mirrors ran along the entire wall of
the room. On the other side of the room, where the others were, there was
space cleared with various equipment in piles along another wall.
"So
normally I wouldn't cut you any slack, but since you're a beginner and you
appear thoroughly exhausted from your workout, we'll just go over the basics
today and then we can start you out for real tomorrow," he said kindly.
"First, let's wrap our hands. We have to wrap them for fighting because
the bones in our hands are pretty sturdy for everyday use, but it's pretty easy
to break them with as little as the wrong angle going into a strike."
"Right,"
I said.
"So
when we thread this material through our knuckles and wrists, we stabilize the
hand and give it extra support so that you're not striking anything with bare
knuckles. It's a necessary precaution and eventually you'll get so used to
wrapping your hands that it will be second nature and you can do it
blindfolded."
I
nodded receptively and copied his movements with my own hand wraps.
"Hey,
Spencer!" Ross yelled out to the others. Everyone turned their heads in
our direction. "Come give me a hand for a second."
Spencer
jogged over and Ross used him as a guinea pig to go over the four basic punches
in mixed martial arts, moving his hands in slow motion. I watched his form,
taking note of where his feet were placed and how his body turned. I had taken
a few self-defense classes but just to be safe, I wasn't going to volunteer any
information that I already knew, just in case it was wrong. I simply watched and
listened quietly until it was my turn to try.
By
lunch, I hit my second wind and wasn't feeling so tired anymore. I followed
the others to the kitchen, leaving Brooks, Ross and Ethan behind in the
studio. Gwen made lasagna for lunch, and it was absolutely divine. I hadn't
had a home cooked meal made by someone else since I was in high school.
I
sat down first, and they filled in around me. Oliver sat across from me and
jumped right into a conversation. Spencer sat beside him and August sat beside
me, flashing a timid smile in my direction.
Oliver
ran a play by play of our gaming marathon from the previous night for Spencer,
detailing how even though I was really very good, I still only managed to beat
him a few times.
Spencer
stuffed a bread roll into his mouth and then said, "Impressive."
Only it sounded more like, "Inpreffife." He made a mammoth effort to
swallow the roll almost whole without taking a sip of his drink (which actually
was impressive) and spoke like I couldn't hear him. "To be the best, you
have to beat the best. You need to challenge her again and take no pity.
Destroy her."
August
rolled her eyes affectionately and moved her pasta around her plate.
"Does he know I'm sitting right here?" I asked her a touch
sarcastically.
Her
eyes bounced to mine and she gave a soft laugh. It sounded delicate, kind of
like wind chimes.
Spencer
focused on me and (again) shoveled food into his mouth before speaking.
"It's survival of the fittest. Do what you gotta to survive."
I
made a show of looking him up and down and said, "You're relaxing in a
kitchen someone else built, eating food someone else made. But being a big,
strong, manly man, you killed the pasta yourself, right?" He scowled at
me and August laughed. "Oh no wait, you murdered the marinara
sauce," I said in faux amazement. Oliver started chuckling, too. I took
a bite of my food. "This tastes a bit . . . chewy. Is there something I
should know about a recruit who came before me? Maybe he never left after all?"
I asked. I held my spoon up like a weapon and eyed them all suspiciously.
Spencer
cracked a smile at that and gave a small, reluctant laugh himself.
"Whatever, man," he said good-naturedly.
I
knew it was lame, but it made them laugh and made me feel good. We chatted for
a bit, laughing here and there at each other. I may have been a bit of a loner
most of my life, but that didn't mean I didn't know how to talk to people. I
paused mid-laugh to look up as someone entered the kitchen. Ethan walked in
and then stopped, his eyes bouncing between our smiling faces. He scowled at
me as my laugh died on my lips.
The
others carried on, unbothered by his presence while I watched him fix his plate.
I averted my gaze as he sat down beside of Spencer and I figured that if I
didn't have anything good to say, I wouldn't say anything at all. And at that
point, the only good thing I'd be able to say was, "
Nice biceps,"
and no way in hell was I saying that. Ever.
I
felt his eyes on me a few times, but I ignored him as best I could and
continued to make cracks at Spencer with Oliver's help, sparking more
laughter. I think Spencer secretly enjoyed being teased and I had a feeling it
was probably why he accepted me. August hadn't actually spoken yet, but she
didn't hold back her laughter and by then I knew it was because she was a
little shy, which was endearing.
After
only a few minutes, Ethan put away his plate and left the room, glaring at
everything and nothing in particular.
We
all watched him leave and I heard Oliver say, "Yeah, Ethan can be kind of
intense."
"No
shit," I said.
"He's
a nice guy, though."
"To
you, maybe," I muttered.
"You
just gotta give him a chance."
I
shook my head subtly and said, "Sorry Ollie, not happening today."
He
stared at me a moment then shrugged his shoulders. "One day."
I
didn't want to burst his bubble so I didn't say anything else.