Page 57 of Movers and Fakers

Hayes smiles, and my heart flutters like a butterfly taking flight.

“Looks like our roles have reversed and I get to teach you a few things.” He switches arms, stretching the left one. I try not to stare. He must take my silence as worry because he adds, “Don’t worry, Princess, I’ll take care of you.”

My toes curl into the mat beneath our feet.

What have I gotten myself into?

Chapter twenty-eight

Winning

Hayes Rosewood

I pull one of my legs behind me in a quad stretch. Aurora watches me with an unreadable expression.

“You should probably stretch and warm up a little,” I instruct.

She arches a brow, then grabs her foot and lifts one long leg up beside her head in a straight line. Coherent thought becomes a thing of the past. I swallow hard. Stare even harder. She slowly lowers her leg back down with a kind of control that speaks of immense strength and training.

“Okay,” I rasp out. “So maybe not stretching, but warming up. The mat inside of the ring can feel a bit like quicksand if you’re not used to it.”

I model a little bit of footwork for her as an example. My blood is pumping just fine with this proximity to Aurora, but I always start training with a warm-up session.

She nods and shifts her weight from one foot to the next, testing the feel. Then I watch as she pulls her ankles together and splays her feet out in what I think is a ballet position. She pushes up onto her toes a few times and does a couple of adorable and impressive tiny jumps.

Her entire ensemble from her bun to her tights looks out of place, and it makes me appreciate her presence all the more. She didn’t have to come. It would have been easy to back out, but she didn’t. And now we’re in the ring together on a date.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it. Now what?”

I clear my throat, trying to focus on teaching her rather than how unbelievably gorgeous she looks.

“Now, I’m going to teach you to hit me.”

A grin spreads across her face, and if I didn’t think she liked me, I’d be really worried. I might still be.

“I’m going to choose to not be offended by how much you’re smiling,” I say, and close the distance between us.

She rolls her eyes. “This was your idea, Prince Charming.”

I grin. I don’t think I’ll ever get over hearing her say that nickname.

“It was, and after this, you can tell me what a great first date it was.”

One of her pink gloves swings toward me, and I let her hit my shoulder.

“I hope you committed that to memory, because it’s not happening again,” I tease, and she swings again. There’s no control or power or strategy. Just a reckless swing that I block easily, then tap her bicep with my opposite hand.

She lets out a frustrated huff.

“Put your hands up in front of your face,” I command gently.

Aurora listens, and I help her adjust into the correct position by nudging up her elbows. Then I take my foot and brush her left leg. She tenses a little at the touch, her eyes jumping up to meet mine.

“Move this behind you and lean back on it a little. Think of splitting your weight sixty-forty.”

She nods and follows my direction without a word.

“We’re sparring, so as tempting as it might be, no full-force punches today,” I say, and she lets out a soft laugh. “But if you are going to hit someone, you want to drive through that back leg and think of the power moving up through your core and out your arm.”