Her heart plummeted. “Does that mean you’re going to stop being my friend?”
“Never that. Anytime you need me, I’ll be around.” He tugged at her braid. “But it does mean you might want to consider making Stack your wingman, at least whenever you can.”
Probably very good advice. “Thank you.”
As Leese walked away, he lifted a hand, letting her know he accepted her gratitude.
Now Vanity turned to see Stack. He stood alone, his expression dark and contemplative. About what?
With the class ready to start, she blew Stack a kiss and got in line. And though she did her best to listen as instructions were given, part of her mind stayed focused on Stack.
She’d played an uncertain game to win him over. Did his possessiveness mean it was working—or would she drive him away by being herself?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AS STACK DIRECTED the class of women, he tried to ensure he didn’t pay more attention to Vanity than anyone else. She helped by not really looking at him, even the few times he spoke directly to her.
Was she so focused on the defense class that she could relegate him to the back burner?
He didn’t like that idea at all. Especially when thoughts of her stayed crowded into the front of his mind.
Some of the women were younger, not really into the class. They were more about flirting. Stack easily looked past them, but Armie made up for it by flirting right back, teasing each and every one.
Only Cherry, Denver’s fiancée, and Vanity were off-limits to Armie’s interest. Cherry stayed at Vanity’s side, and occasionally the two of them would whisper or laugh about something.
Likely they were amused by the attention he and Armie got from the women who were supposed to be learning how to defend themselves from attackers.
“I need a volunteer.” Armie glanced over the class, bypassed the raised hands, and said, “C’mon, Vee. You’ll do.”
Stack swung around. What the hell was Armie doing?
Vanity lifted her hand and Cherry gave her a high five. Without an ounce of hesitation, Vanity stepped up front.
Feeling like an extra in a bad play, Stack stood there as Armie arranged her in front of him so they were both in profile to the rest of the ladies.
“If someone jumps you,” Armie said, “it’s go time. You can’t be timid and you can’t be polite. So where are the best places to aim?”
Vanity took a stance. “A woman my size against a man your size would do best aiming for the eyes, nose, or ears.” With each part she listed, she went through a practiced move.
“Right. But if you’re going for my nose, then you use the heel of your hand, and you really bring it. A tap is just going to piss me off.”
She grinned. “Can’t have that.” In slow motion she went through the strike again, this time with the heel of her hand aimed at the base of Armie’s nose.
“Better.” He held up his palm. “Pretend that’s my nose. Go for it.”
She struck, smacking Armie’s palm with precision, the sound of the impact loud and sharp.
“Nice.” He stood over her, then clasped her forearms. “Now what?”
She brought up her knee, fast and hard, stopping just shy of nutting Armie.
He lurched, ducking his hips back, and she laughed.
So did the rest of the ladies.
“Brat.” Armie put her in a headlock, knuckled the top of her head, then turned her loose. She snickered as she smoothed her hair back into place.
And Stack stood there behind them, taking it in, a little annoyed and absurdly proud of her.
He turned her to face him. “You saw how Armie moved? Your groin strike would have missed. Whenever possible, you always want to aim for the body parts where you can do the most damage. Whether the guy is big or small, trained or a dolt, the eyes are always vulnerable.”
Vanity nodded, then curled her small hands into claws. “Raking, scratching, gouging and poking.”
Stack and Armie took turns engaging her in different examples for the class. She hung in there, showing that she knew the moves but wasn’t comfortable in actually implementing them.
“We need to do some real drills,” Stack said to Armie, who agreed.
“Next time,” Armie announced to the class, “what do you think about putting on protective gear and actually sparring?”
Vanity’s elbow landed in Stack’s ribs, and she spoke to the class. “Oh, seriously, Armie. I’m sure no one here wants to get locked up close and personal with any of you guys.” Her eyebrows bobbed suggestively. “What do you say, ladies?”
“Never that. Anytime you need me, I’ll be around.” He tugged at her braid. “But it does mean you might want to consider making Stack your wingman, at least whenever you can.”
Probably very good advice. “Thank you.”
As Leese walked away, he lifted a hand, letting her know he accepted her gratitude.
Now Vanity turned to see Stack. He stood alone, his expression dark and contemplative. About what?
With the class ready to start, she blew Stack a kiss and got in line. And though she did her best to listen as instructions were given, part of her mind stayed focused on Stack.
She’d played an uncertain game to win him over. Did his possessiveness mean it was working—or would she drive him away by being herself?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AS STACK DIRECTED the class of women, he tried to ensure he didn’t pay more attention to Vanity than anyone else. She helped by not really looking at him, even the few times he spoke directly to her.
Was she so focused on the defense class that she could relegate him to the back burner?
He didn’t like that idea at all. Especially when thoughts of her stayed crowded into the front of his mind.
Some of the women were younger, not really into the class. They were more about flirting. Stack easily looked past them, but Armie made up for it by flirting right back, teasing each and every one.
Only Cherry, Denver’s fiancée, and Vanity were off-limits to Armie’s interest. Cherry stayed at Vanity’s side, and occasionally the two of them would whisper or laugh about something.
Likely they were amused by the attention he and Armie got from the women who were supposed to be learning how to defend themselves from attackers.
“I need a volunteer.” Armie glanced over the class, bypassed the raised hands, and said, “C’mon, Vee. You’ll do.”
Stack swung around. What the hell was Armie doing?
Vanity lifted her hand and Cherry gave her a high five. Without an ounce of hesitation, Vanity stepped up front.
Feeling like an extra in a bad play, Stack stood there as Armie arranged her in front of him so they were both in profile to the rest of the ladies.
“If someone jumps you,” Armie said, “it’s go time. You can’t be timid and you can’t be polite. So where are the best places to aim?”
Vanity took a stance. “A woman my size against a man your size would do best aiming for the eyes, nose, or ears.” With each part she listed, she went through a practiced move.
“Right. But if you’re going for my nose, then you use the heel of your hand, and you really bring it. A tap is just going to piss me off.”
She grinned. “Can’t have that.” In slow motion she went through the strike again, this time with the heel of her hand aimed at the base of Armie’s nose.
“Better.” He held up his palm. “Pretend that’s my nose. Go for it.”
She struck, smacking Armie’s palm with precision, the sound of the impact loud and sharp.
“Nice.” He stood over her, then clasped her forearms. “Now what?”
She brought up her knee, fast and hard, stopping just shy of nutting Armie.
He lurched, ducking his hips back, and she laughed.
So did the rest of the ladies.
“Brat.” Armie put her in a headlock, knuckled the top of her head, then turned her loose. She snickered as she smoothed her hair back into place.
And Stack stood there behind them, taking it in, a little annoyed and absurdly proud of her.
He turned her to face him. “You saw how Armie moved? Your groin strike would have missed. Whenever possible, you always want to aim for the body parts where you can do the most damage. Whether the guy is big or small, trained or a dolt, the eyes are always vulnerable.”
Vanity nodded, then curled her small hands into claws. “Raking, scratching, gouging and poking.”
Stack and Armie took turns engaging her in different examples for the class. She hung in there, showing that she knew the moves but wasn’t comfortable in actually implementing them.
“We need to do some real drills,” Stack said to Armie, who agreed.
“Next time,” Armie announced to the class, “what do you think about putting on protective gear and actually sparring?”
Vanity’s elbow landed in Stack’s ribs, and she spoke to the class. “Oh, seriously, Armie. I’m sure no one here wants to get locked up close and personal with any of you guys.” Her eyebrows bobbed suggestively. “What do you say, ladies?”
