Well, maybe not this exact moment, but one with her under him with the aforementioned thoughts swimming in his head.
He clenched his jaw and waited for some signal to hold her down.
There wasn’t one. He counted to maybe three, and Avery was on the move.
Liam attempted to squeeze her with his thighs and instead found her knee in his chest, his balance thrown off, and she was two feet away on the balls of her feet, and he was on his back.
“How the hell . . . ?”
“I said hold her down.”
It was Avery’s turn to smirk while looking at her fingernails.
“Okay, Princess. I see how this works.” Liam jumped to his feet and motioned to the floor.
Brenda stood back.
He admired the swagger in Avery’s hips as she moved to the same position on the mat.
This time when he positioned himself on top of her, he immediately grabbed her hands and pinned them to the ground.
She went limp as if giving up, and then, like a cat who was done being petted, she bucked with strength he didn’t see coming. He braced himself with one hand to keep from falling off of her, and she used it to her advantage. She wrapped her leg around his, and then she was on her side, his arm in a hold that threatened to bend it backward.
He’d like to say he didn’t cuss in that moment, but he’d be lying.
She let go and jumped to the balls of her feet.
“You know, the last time I was beaten up by a girl, it was my sister, and titty twisters were involved.”
Avery laughed and Brenda scowled.
“That is your problem. Avery isn’t your sister. She isn’t someone you protect and let win. She is having a seizure, and if you let go, she will fall off a cliff into the Grand Canyon. Hold. Her. Down.”
Brenda slammed her hand on the mat beside him.
Liam pulled himself together as he stood. He had half a foot on Avery. He easily had fifty pounds over her.
But damn, she was fast and cunning. He was pretty sure the pain on the left side of his body was a bruised rib from her knee providing the space she needed to escape.
Seizure.
He could do this.
She took her position and he took his.
He pinned her hands and she bucked. Only he was ready for that this time. He flattened his body against hers. Would have enjoyed it if she wasn’t trying to head butt him. He dodged what would have been a headache for both of them.
She attempted to use her leg to wrap his. He pushed away until he could capture it under his. His distraction gave her the opportunity to get out from under one of his hands. She attempted to leverage herself and twist him off.
He held her tight.
When he had her pinned again, Brenda hit the mat.
She moved two inches from Avery’s face. “You cannot beat strength with strength. There will always be bigger opponents than you out there.”
Liam lifted his hands from Avery’s arms.
She was breathing hard, her jaw set in a firm line. Vulnerability overtook the anger in her eyes.
Liam stood and backed up when Avery squirmed away.
“Whatever!” Avery released the tie that held her hair back and shook her head. She stormed out of the gym and into the locker room. Liam found his feet following.
“Leave her alone.”
Yeah, Liam wasn’t one to follow orders.
Chapter Five
With both hands on the lockers and her head hanging between her shoulders, Avery attempted to push back her anger.
She had him.
Twice.
She shoved her fist into the locker, accepted the pain that came with it.
“Hey.”
It was him, the man who proved Brenda right. “Girls’ locker room. Or can’t you read?”
He didn’t respond and didn’t leave. She could feel his eyes staring at the back of her head.
“No one likes a sore loser.”
Avery twisted on her heel. “I took you.”
He hunched his shoulders. “Surprise is something you can only use once.”
“Twice.”
He chuckled.
The anger inside of her started to ebb, and she voiced what she’d been thinking since she saw him watching her warm up. “Were you at the bar the other night?”
Was that a smile? “What bar?”
“One block up?”
“Pug’s Pub?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve been there. You don’t seem the type to go to Pug’s.”
She closed her eyes and turned her back to him. “And what type is that?” She twisted the combination on her lock and pulled her bag from the locker.
When he didn’t immediately answer, she looked at him.
“Let’s see . . . the women at Pug’s haven’t had a manicure in a long time, therefore the color of their nail polish would be red. Yours is beige. Highlights in your hair . . .” He glanced at her bag. “Is that Gucci?”
“I don’t know a lot of heterosexual men who know Gucci from Walmart.”
He winced. “That would hurt, except I have a Gucci-style sister and I’m as hetero as they come.”
She turned toward the locker, removed her Prada handbag, and stuffed it into her Gucci duffel. Heat boiled in her veins.
“I came in here to see if you were okay.”
She lifted a hand in the air without turning around. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, hell . . . Did I do that?” He took a step closer and touched her arm.
Avery twisted like a cornered cat and nearly struck out.
Mr. Handyman stepped back and stared at her arm.
Tiny purple bruises emerged where he’d pinned her hands to the mat.
“I’m fine.” She pulled her hands away. “Part of the deal with these classes.”
He shook his head. “Years of my mother telling me not to hurt girls makes this everything but okay. I was here to put up shelving, not manhandle the students.”
She took one step toward him and looked up. He did have half a head on her. “Well, be sure and tell your mother that you’re keeping your promises.”
“I’m obviously not.”
She considered him for a brief moment, his size, the actual concern in his eyes. “Did you let me win?”
He pointed a thumb behind him at the closed door. “Back there?”
“Yeah. Did you hear your mother’s voice and let go?”
He shook his head. “Much as I hate to admit it . . . no.”
At least she had that.
“But Brenda’s right. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. And my guess is, the only kind of man you’d have to use those moves on isn’t trying to be your friend.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“So what’s the issue? Why not practice with men twice your size more often?”
She closed her eyes, thought of the recurring dreams she’d had ever since her face had met the bottom of someone’s boot. “I have my reasons.” She reached for her bag, hiked it up on her shoulder, and closed the locker behind her.
“Then why did you let me join in?”
“Because you don’t look like—” Avery stopped short and quickly diverted her eyes. Him.
“Oh . . .”
“It isn’t what you think.”
“I call bullshit.”
Avery shook her head. “Usually I know the people insulting me or calling me a liar.”
“I haven’t insulted you. But you are lying and you know it. Which is why the defensive hair is probably spiked on the back of your neck.”
“So you’re a therapist and a handyman?”
“My sister is a crisis counselor. I guess some things wear off at our family dinners.”
Avery wondered what it felt like to have a weekly dinner with someone she admired enough to pick up some of their habits. “Well, you’ll forgive me for not paying for your little session here.” On some level Avery knew she was channeling her inner bitch and taking it out on this hulk of a stranger. The corner she felt herself being pushed into was as uncomfortable as wool in summer.
She took a step toward the door, and he stood in front of her.
Her feet froze.
“My name is Liam. Let me buy you a drink.”
She blinked several times. “Are you trying to pick me up?”
“An hour ago I would have said yes.”
Her brain couldn’t process what he meant. “But not now?”
“The protective part of me wants to erase that look in your eyes.”
“The angry, pissed off look?”
He smiled. “Sure, that, too.”
“Well, Liam. Thank you, but no thank you.” She brushed past him and stepped out the door.
Halfway across the gym floor, Brenda called out from her office, “See you Friday.”
Avery knew she’d be back.
Sometimes addictions took time to become the compelling habits that often debilitated a person. Then there were times those addictions happened overnight.
Liam was pretty sure he was on the latter half of that thought.
That’s why he was standing in a group krav maga class with a bunch of strangers on a Wednesday night. Brenda made it clear that he could train in her studio for free as long as he gave one day a week to Avery. Actually the conversation hadn’t quite happened that way.
As he was leaving the studio after Avery stormed out, he approached Brenda about returning to spar with her problem student. Brenda allowed it on the condition that he take classes with her group.
The class started with a warm-up that reminded Liam that he didn’t spend time in a gym. He never needed to in his profession. Yet as his crew had grown to twenty or so men doing most of the heavy lifting, Liam had softened up in the past couple of years.
Brenda paired him off with Craig, one of her trainers.
“Have you ever boxed?”
Liam shook his head.
“Weight lifting?”
“Do two-by-fours count?”
Craig had Liam’s height but not his broad shoulders or natural girth. That wasn’t to say the man was thin—he wasn’t.