Page 48 of Aperture

“Shouldn’t I try to stomp on your foot?” I ask, having seen that in movies.

“No. It can cause you to lose your balance and end up on the ground. That puts you at an even bigger disadvantage.” He steps away and my body immediately feels the loss.

“Let’s practice.”

He comes back behind me and I practice what I have learned. After a few minutes, I’m getting better at maneuvering around and I’m focused more on learning what Wyatt is teaching me and less on remembering our night together.

“Good. Let’s try from the front.” He shows me what to do if the attack comes from the front and then tells me where the best spots are to hit or stab if I manage to obtain a sharp object, and after several minutes of practicing, we are both sweaty and breathing heavily.

“Let’s get some water. Then we will do some grappling on the floor.”

My expensive workout clothes are stuck to my body. I no longer look like the cute, Lululemon-clad girl with the bouncy high ponytail who walked in here. I’m pasty, covered in sweat, and my ponytail is low and slicked to my face. Let’s be honest. I look more like one of the founding fathers than a hot girl at the gym.

“Let’s go, Millie.”

“Sir. Yes, Sir,” I shout. Wyatt laughs and points down at the ground.

“Lay down on your back.” I do as he says, once again, because apparently, the dominant version of Wyatt is like gasoline to my libido.

He stands over me, one foot near each of my hips, and then lowers to straddle me, holding his weight off my stomach.

“Are you kidding me right now, Hudson?”

“I am not kidding you,” he says seriously. “If someone gets on top of you, you need to know how to use their weight against them.” He lifts my arms over my head and stares down at me. I lick my lips and stare into his eyes.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “Fight me.” Did he say fight me or fuck me? I’m hallucinating.

“I’m too tired,” I joke. “You can just put me out of my misery.”

“This is serious,” he says. “We are not leaving until you learn this.”

“Uuuugh, fine.” I half-heartedly try to snake my way out from underneath him. When I don't get too far with that technique, I arch my back and attempt to bridge underneath him.

“Good. That’s a good girl,” he praises, and I flush as I’m reminded of the last time he said that to me. The embarrassment over how my body is reacting to him fuels me to fight him harder.

He teaches me things called side control, arm bar, and guard. I’m not a jiu-jitsu expert, but I’m learning some helpful stuff. I’m feeling stronger and more confident as we keep practicing. It doesn’t escape my attention that we have been tangled up like a pretzel for the better part of an hour.

Afterward, we sit on the floor, wiping the sweat off our bodies and drinking water.

“You did well.”

“You are nothing if not thorough,” I joke.

I see a smirk play on his lips before he gets more serious.

“I will not take any chances when it comes to you, Millie. Your safety is all that matters to me,” Wyatt doesn’t break eye contact when he says this.

I’m not sure if it’s the sweat drying on my skin or his words, but chills break out.

◆◆◆

Later that evening, I get a text from Theo.

Theo: Are you free to talk?

My initial emotion upon seeing his text isn’t elation or even excitement. It’s guilt. I spent time with Wyatt today; sexy, sweaty time, and although no boundaries were crossed, I know Theo won’t be happy about it. I wouldn’t want him to spend time wrestling around on the ground with a woman he’s attracted to, either, so I owe him an explanation.

Millie: I am.