Just Let Go

by Alessandra Thomas

  “Punch from the shoulder,” I said, inches from his ear. Then I held my glove up and demonstrated. “Like this,” I said as I let kinetic energy explode from my shoulder and propel my glove forward. “Now you.”

  Ethan did what I asked, and I watched the muscles of his arms twitch and flex as he did. “Not bad,” I murmured. “Now,” I said, bouncing on my toes and changing my position so I was facing him again, holding my gloves up to my face so only my eyes were showing, “Hit me.”

  “What?” Ethan sputtered, and I giggled. “Natalia, I am not – I can’t – “

  “You can, and you are. C’mon,” I encouraged. “I’ll call the punches and you practice them. Okay?”

  Ethan looked queasy. Looked like we were enjoying this activity in perfectly correlated amounts – as my amusement increased, his took a nosedive.

  “Jab,” I called, and like Ethan was a puppet and my voice controlled his strings, his arm shut out. It was aimless, but at least his fist came out relatively close to my face and the power was coming from the right place. I threw my glove up to block him. “Good!” I crowed, then a second later, “Cross!” This hit needed work too, but I was patient. I dipped and move with each punch I called out, making sure that his glove hit mine with a satisfying deep smack every time. “Really good,” I repeated. He wasn’t used to this kind of exercise – his breath was getting short and a sheen of sweat had started to form across his brow after only a couple minutes.

  “Okay,” I said, loud enough to grab his attention. His focus, which was adorable, broke then. I let my gloves drop and he did the same.

  “Nope,” I said, stepping into his space and nudging his arms back up. “Now it’s my turn to hit and your turn to block.”

  “Natalia, why are we –”

  “Just. Block,” I said. Back in fighting stance, I started to bounce, and Ethan sighed as he raised his gloves back up. I kept calling the punches, announcing “Jab!” or “Cross” a good second or so before I actually threw a hit. Of course, my aim was much better than Ethan’s, so even though he was an inexperienced blocker, he wasn’t in any danger of actually being hit.

  But who knew that he could keep up with my bobbing and weaving? He seemed to catch a second wind as his steps around the ring perfectly paced to mirror mine, until we were both panting and sweating. I stopped for a second and let my arms drop, feeling full and triumphant. Ethan’s stayed up, guarding his face. “Doesn’t that feel better? Now, do you believe me that I can take care of myself?”

  He sighed, and fixed his eyes on me over the top of his gloves, which he still held up. Guess he wasn’t ready for a breather. “Natalia, I –” But just the tone of his voice was a buzzkill. Apparently, I’d tried cutting off our session too soon, so I blurted “Jab!” and lunged toward him – just as he let his gloves drop.

  In slow motion, I watched my glove connect to the side of his face with a sick smack. I hadn’t taught him how to slip, or even to roll with a punch. It was like I was seeing it in slow motion – his head slid to the side, the skin rippling across his cheeks, his lips moving into an unrecognizable shape. For a second, I thought he’d stay standing, that he had been surprised but not unprepared – but, nope. Down Ethan went.

  A burning sensation flooded through my chest, and in half a second, I had dropped to my knees next to him. To his credit, he’d recovered somewhat – he was propped up on one elbow, gloves still on, the cool vinyl of one of them pressed to his cheek.

  I shucked my gloves off, and as I did I realized that my breath was coming short in my chest. With anyone else, I would have found this hilarious, but instead, I felt mild panic at the prospect that I’d somehow broken Ethan. That this (accidental!) punch would scare him away from all this.

  I had no idea what ‘this’ was, mind you. I just knew I didn’t want to stop seeing Ethan. And apparently that’s the feeling that led to punching me in the face. Nice work, Natalia.

  I scooted over to him on my knees, my hands outstretched, and moved to cup his jaws with them, just to get a better look. He flinched away from my touch, and I frowned. “Ethan,” I crooned, shocking myself with my own nurturing tone. “God, I’m sorry.” I bent down and tried to touch him again, and this time he let me, letting out a sad attempt at a chuckle.

  He cracked his eyes open and peered at me. “Sorry, I’m just having a little trouble understanding what you were trying to accomplish by punching me in the face.”

  “Accomplish? I – Ethan, I wasn’t trying to accomplish anything,” I protested, leaning forward and shoving my forearms under his arms, pulling him up to sitting. At least now he looked a little less injured, but I was the one who was out of breath. He was heavier than he looked. Unconsciously, I licked my lips at the thought that muscle was much heavier than fat. And I knew exactly how much muscle was under those clothes. How it looked. How it felt. How it tasted.

  Slowly, still wincing against the sting on his cheek, Ethan shifted his legs so he was sitting with his ankles crossed. He pulled off his gloves, one with his teeth, then the other with his freed fingers. I leaned in to look more closely at his cheek. It was swelling, that was for sure – not quickly enough that I thought his cheekbone was broken, but he definitely would have some explaining to do to his bosses.

  Not to my brothers or my dad, though. They would know exactly what had happened. Now it was my turn to groan.

  “Hey,” he said, his expression shifting from pain to pity. “No, no. It’s okay. Really.”

  “I was just trying to prove to you that I knew what the hell I was doing. I swear, it’s not –”

  “Oh,” Ethan laughed. “If there was any way for you to effectively demonstrate that you know how to throw a punch, it’s that. Believe me. But, Natalia,” he said, more quietly now. His hands reached out for mine, and I let him take them. He tugged me gently toward him. This was the not-cocky Ethan. Forgiving. Gentle. Kind. I knee crawled forward until my legs bumped against his. Then he dropped my hand and wrapped his free one around my waist, pulling me down to his lap. I squeaked in surprise at being suddenly so helpless, so wrapped up in him. Especially since about ten minutes ago he’d been so unsure, so guarded. Now he was back to taking charge.

  Strange sensations sizzled through every one of my cells. I couldn’t tell whether I liked this…or whether I really liked it. The closeness. The intimacy. Ethan taking charge, even in this small way, even if I knew I could take control back in an instant.

  * * *

  “Natalia,” he continued. “I believe that you can do this stunt career thing, as safely as anyone can. I’m just saying… it’s not really safe for anyone. And that makes it not safe for your business. And believe me, it’s not the only way to enjoy life. “

  I frowned at that. I hadn’t told Ethan everything about why I was so set on this career, but what he’d just said hit dangerously close to my biggest fear – that I’d go through life like a zombie, going through the motions, doing exactly what everyone expected of me and never what I really wanted to be doing. There was more to it, but –

  “I know,” I muttered.

  “I want to spend more time with you. And I want to help you with The Knockout. I know I probably can’t convince you to give up the stunt stuff.”

  I frowned. It was so much more than just “stunt stuff.” I desperately wanted him to understand that, even if I knew he wasn’t ready to hear my explanation. Even if I knew I wasn’t ready to give it.

  “But I want to show you that it’s maybe not as bad as you think.” Hesitantly, millimeter by millimeter, he moved his face closer to mine. “If I’m asking a girl to let me date her after she punched me in the face, it means I really want it. Right?”

  “Right,” I laughed softly. “I just –”

  Then, he planted the softest of soft kisses on my lips. It was so sweet, so tender, and unexpectedly slow. Every one of his kisses up to now had been seductive, desperate. This felt so caring it made my heart want to burst.

  “Let me date
you,” he said when he pulled away, only just enough for his lips to move. I could taste his sweet breath, and I wanted more. “Let me show you that calm, and slow-paced, and even boring, isn’t awful. Then you can re-evaluate. After, I don’t know, ten dates, you can decide to say fuck the calm life, and I’ll write up the insurance and… I’ll get you a big discount on your insurance.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Really. How big?” This was such a shocking proposition, I was willing to ignore the swear word.7

  “I’ll… I don’t know.” He shrugged, and I could tell he was getting frustrated, even though he mostly just looked sad. “But I will. I’ll figure it out. If you still want to live like a crazy woman when I’m done with you, I’ll write up the policy myself and make sure The Knockout and your family is protected. It’ll still be more expensive than the quiet life. I’m not a miracle worker.”

  “I understand,” I said quietly, biting my lip.

  “But if you come around, The Knockout saves that money.”

  Well, I did want to spend more time with Ethan. There was no point in denying that.

  “Okay,” I said, in almost a whisper.

  Ethan’s eyebrows arched up almost to his hairline. Goodness, he was cute. “Okay?” he asked, smiling hopefully.

  I just nodded and leaned down again to mold my lips to his.

  Chapter 14

  Ethan

  I’d created a monster, and his name was Hot Mark Mahler. My best friend had gone from sad sack to model-material in a few short months, and it was all my fault.

  Nobody else was calling him that, of course. But I was man enough to understand that my radio show co-host had gone from schlub to serious catch when he’d had that makeover his twin sister Hannah had pushed on him. I should have known that pushing Mark into a weekly segment for the Bro Show where we followed his search for a girlfriend – which he’d never really wanted to undertake in the first place – would end with him falling in love.

  I could not have predicted it would have happened this fast. And with the sound girl on our show, Toby, no less. Shit, everything seemed to fall into this dude’s lap. Figuratively and literally – apparently the yoga glass she had taken Mark to last night had involved her straddling him and wrapping her legs around his waist.

  I made a mental note to get the name of that yoga studio from Mark. Yoga seemed like a nice, safe activity that Natalia might also really like. Unlike Mark’s girl, I’d have to convince her that an hour spent in silent, sexy meditation could be just as thrilling as base jumping.

  I knew I should have been jealous of him, but I loved Mark like a brother.

  I was starting to like Toby a whole hell of a lot, too. And right this moment she was looking stressed. She didn’t know that I knew that she was Mark’s new girl. More importantly, she didn’t want me to know.

  Break the ice, Anderson.

  Mark was saying something about the yoga class feeling like it had been pulled straight from The Lion King. So I interrupted him, “Toby, we’ve gotta get that sound on my grid. You know the one. At the beginning of the lion movie?”

  * * *

  Her face changed from slightly open-mouthed shock to relaxed relief. “On it, Bro,” she said, and I grinned at how she’d adapted to Mark’s and my greetings for each other. I flashed her a smile, trying to convince her that I was completely clueless about her and Mark with a single look.

  It had been a week since Natalia and I made our deal – for every safe, normal date I took her on, I would agree to do something insane and/or dangerous of her choosing.

  This was how I knew Natalia was different. I wouldn’t agree to that for literally any other girl on the planet.

  I’d only seen her twice this week, one of those times being when I broke into her very un-secure gym and struck that very deal with her. I was distancing myself, and I knew exactly why. Agreeing to do insane dangerous things was very different than…actually doing them.

  Natalia had acquiesced and let me choose the first date. It was dinner at Morimoto’s sushi, famous not only in Philly, but worldwide. The food was exquisite, the atmosphere was perfection, and Natalia was the best dinner companion I’d ever sat down to eat with.

  Seriously. She took in every detail of our surroundings, actually pored over the menu and had a lively conversation with the waiter before she ordered, and once the food came, she savored every bite like it could have been her last. I had to seriously restrain myself from joking that it could very well be that if Natalia actually planned to go skydiving a few days later, like she said she did.

  She was ethereal. She told me about an MMA competition she’d unknowingly gotten herself into in LA, and how there were scouts there, and how she’d finished in 5th place, which was actually pretty damn good. Not good enough to get noticed by the scouts, but good enough to get her first background stunt-acting gig. I told her about the Bro Show and the segment I’d cornered Mark into, thinking it’d be this big hilarious entertaining process, when really it was just turning out to be pretty boring, with him already going goo-goo eyed for Toby.

  “Sounds boring,” Natalia said. “But isn’t that what you want?”

  “Only for myself,” I chuckled. “No rollercoasters for me. Or tilt-a-whirls. Or even teacups.”

  “So, you just want to stand on the sidelines and watch other people experience all those crazy thrills.”

  I shrugged. “I guess. If it means I can avoid the sheer terror that comes before it.”

  Natalia shoved her tongue into her cheek pocket, nodding slowly, thinking. Never breaking eye contact with me, she pulled her phone from somewhere – under her thigh, maybe, God – and started to type something.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “Making notes,” she said calmly. “R-O-L-L-E-R-C-O-A-S-T-E-R,” she said. “Filed in ‘dates with Mark.’”

  I groaned, tipping my head back. The waiter came and refilled our sake cups, and I barely noticed. Natalia got up from the table and walked over to my side. She bent down and whispered in my ear, and I bit back a moan as her breath ruffled the hair there. “You go on a rollercoaster with me,” she said, “and I will fuck you in our car in the parking lot afterward.”

  I froze, then felt my eyes flutter shut at the feeling of her hair brushing my shoulder as she stood up again. She murmured something about going to the ladies’ room and I sat there, stock-still, trying to collect myself so that we could pay the check and get out of there as soon as possible.

  When she came slinking back to the table in her clingy black dress, which made me damn glad she’d been sitting down the whole dinner so that that gorgeous swell of her hips wouldn’t distract me from conversation, I didn’t even let her sit down. I practically jumped to my feet and hauled her out of there by one arm, loving the way she giggled on the way.

  I was still half-expecting sex with Natalia to get a little more resistible. Instead, I found it harder and harder to keep my hands off of her with every passing day. At my place, she made fun of my leather couch with the nail head trim on the arms, asking how old I really was if I had a sofa that looked like it belonged in a sitcom grandfather’s den. I shut her up but bunching that stretchy dress up over her curvy, sweet ass and sucking her tits while she rode me hard. After, while we lay there recovering, she named the sofa Old Will. “That can be our code word,” she purred, trailing a finger down the middle of my chest as she snuggled into me.

  * * *

  “Code word? Like, for when things get too crazy in bed?” I hummed in pleasure as she hitched her leg up over mine, twisting our lower halves together, and reached up to grab the throw blanket at the back of the couch.

  Natalia laughed that full-throated way that always made me itch to have her again. “No, that’s a safe word. And don’t worry, Mr. Safety, I don’t anticipate you’ll ever agree to kinky enough sex for us to have a safe word.”

  I bristled at that, but didn’t disagree. I’d never had kinky sex – honestly, I’d alway
s been plenty satisfied with all the regular types of sex. So far, at least.

  “No,” she continued. “Like when we want to. You know. Then, if we’re watching Monday night football or something, I don’t have to jump you in front of Papá. I’ll just say, ‘Hey Ethan, do you think the Packers WILL get the third down?’” She frowned as soon as she said it, and her thoughtful look was so adorable that I paid attention to her face instead of her still-naked body. “That sounds like something I’d say way too often. I’ll just ask if you wanna visit Old Will. Easy.” She smacked her hand on the leather, and the sound had me half-hard again already.

  “Monday night football with Papá, huh?” I asked as my heart warmed at the thought.

  “Of course, and Arturo. And Sebastian, and Christian. Rodrigo is always there because Amalia is obsessed with football. You don’t want to get near her when Denver is even possibly going to lose. Alejandro even comes sometimes.”

  “I thought Sunday night was your family’s thing,” I said, softly kissing her hair. I hadn’t forgotten what it was like to have a place I would always belong – home. Conversations like this always brought a small ache to my chest. Natalia had a family. I didn’t. Not anymore.

  “Always Sunday dinner, which is more like a late lunch,” she said. “But that was… well, never mind.”

  I pulled her in a little closer to me, then tucked a rogue strand of hair over her ear. I kissed the soft shell of her ear and felt her shiver. “Not ‘never mind’. What?”