Easy Nights

“Van.”

I spin at the sound of Ben’s voice, and silently cringe. I look horrible. I’m sweating like an ice cold drink without a coaster, and the clothes I wear here are skin tight, making it easier to move.

“You’re not usually here at this time,” I say and dab a towel on my face. “What’s up?”

“I had a meeting with another instructor,” he says with a smile. “Thought I’d say hi.”

“Hi.” I smile and readjust my ponytail. It’s much smaller now, but I can still pull it back. “How was your day?”

“Busy,” he replies and surprises me by letting his eyes travel up and down my body. “I like the new hair. You look great.”

“I’m a mess.” I chuckle and hook my towel around my shoulders. “You, however, do look great.”

That’s a fucking understatement. He’s in cargo shorts and a black tank top, showing off his tattoos and his muscles.

Good lord, the muscles.

“Can I show you a few things?” he asks, breaking my concentration on his muscles.

“Sure,” I frown as I follow him back into the empty classroom. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, I just want to go over some form things.” He leads me to the center of the room and stands behind me, looking into my eyes through the mirror.

Oh God. This is way sexier than it probably should be.

“Assume the stance.”

I follow his directions and work very hard to not react to his strong hands on my sides as he walks me through punches, kicks, and better ways to keep my center of gravity.

“You’re small,” he murmurs and pushes my legs just a little closer together. “I want you to keep your feet just a little closer together. You’ll have better balance.”

I nod. “It feels better.”

He smiles at me. I can’t keep my eyes off of him in the mirror. The way he moves, his facial expressions.

Ben has always been attractive to me, but holy shit, did he get hotter? Or was I just too broken before to see it?

Because holy shit, he’s hot.

“Van?”

“Yeah?”

“I just asked you to do the spin/elbow move.”

“Oh.” I bite my lip and will myself to stop ogling his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course.” I do as he asks and spin, attempting to ram my elbow in his nose, the way I’ve been taught, but he blocks and sends me onto my ass. “Damn it.”

“You’re not spinning quickly enough.”

“I’m as clumsy as they get,” I remind him. “If I spin too fast, I’ll fall on my ass. I’ll be helping my attacker more than anything.”

“It’ll actually feel easier,” he says, helping me to my feet. “You can do this. I’ve seen it.”

“You’re taller than anyone else I’ve ever sparred with.”

“Good,” he says and narrows his eyes. “Chances are, if you ever have to defend yourself, your attacker won’t be shorter than you.”

“True.” I nod thoughtfully.

“But if you’re still not comfortable doing this with me, that’s fine. I can make suggestions for Shelly to work on next week.”

“I’m okay,” I reply, and am surprised to realize that it’s true. It wasn’t long ago that I couldn’t stand for any man to touch me, not even my brothers. But I don’t mind so much now.

In fact, I’m utterly shocked to realize that his touch is turning me on. I don’t remember the last time I had sexual thoughts toward a man. Even Ben. Which was one more thing that made me sad.

But hello, long lost hormones.