The next afternoon, I find myself going down my street while throwing nervous glances around as if I was in a secret mission. Well, I may not be a spy, but I do have some secrets I'd like to keep.

My Mom thinks that I'm going to work on the physics project with my partner, which is partly true. I mean, yes I'm going with my project partner, yet it is for a fighting lesson, and most importantly she doesn't know that Alex Carter is my partner. I don't like to lie to her, yet knowing Alex's reputation, I think it's better this way. I've already been scared of his lifestyle, so if she knew, she would be too worried. Though, now I'm the one with my stomach shriveling with all my lies.

Luckily, Alex hasn't questioned why I've asked to meet farther from my house, and as soon as I pass the angle of my street and spot him leaning against his motorcycle, I breathe a little. Though just 'a little' because there are still so many knots in my stomach with all the question marks I have for this afternoon.

He is looking down at his phone, and as I get nearer, flashbacks of the last time I've surprised him are popping before my eyes, tightening the knots in my stomach.

I can't wait to leave my neighborhood, yet at the same time, I'm not in a hurry for those fighting lessons. So it shows in my feet, which are stopping for a second before resuming walking the few steps to Alex's bike.

"Hi." I make sure to be heard today.

He looks up, and the question marks in my stomach seem to turn into exclamation marks, or maybe ellipsis, as I meet his shining dark eyes.

"Hi, Miss Clumsy..." His smoldering gaze travels down my body, and I doubt my choice of outfit with each part burning under his lingering eyes: My baby blue tank top, maybe the neckline is slightly too low? My black tight leggings with a see-through strip along the length of my legs on the side, are they too tight? And my light jacket on top, this one is definitely too warm!

"It's okay my outfit? I didn't know what to wear for a fighting lesson..." I ask, my wavering voice pulling his gaze back to mine.

This is something I never wear for PE because it's a little too showy, yet I've felt like wearing it today, and I think it's comfy enough for training. Though I don't know what to think of his burning stare leaving me shivering.

"Perfect..." he rasps, his eyes going down my legs one more time as more blood runs up to my cheeks.

After a quick ride on his motorcycle that allows me some time to cool down and calm down my nerves, we get to the spot where he will teach me how to fight.

Standing in front of the old building, I suppress the shiver running down my spine. I can clearly see this is some sort of gymnasium, yet it's so different from the one of our high school. It's dilapidated, with graffitis covering all the façade, some artistic ones, but mostly curse words and other obscenities. The surroundings aren't better either. There is a small, empty playground on one side, with only a wobbly swing, and the other buildings around seem as old and run-down from what I can glimpse. We haven't traveled that much, yet it feels like another world from the neighborhood I'm used to.

We're in the rough area of the town, where I almost never go. Alex has told me it's the spot where he usually trains, so I guess, for him, this area is very familiar, especially seeing him acting like he's at home. He opens the front door with his keys, and he's walking around naturally. In a way, the surroundings suit him with his dark aura and tough exterior, but this is also what makes me follow him inside with no fear: if the place is like him, there is surely much more than what I can see at first sight.

Though inside, the building is almost as dilapidated and old as outside. From the empty and narrow hallway we're following, I glimpse gloomy rooms through the blurred glass of some doors, and when we finally arrive in the training room, I stop by the door. My gaze travels around the room, but my feet stay firmly planted on the concrete floor.

There are mats all over the floor, and some weights, punching balls and other fighting gear here and there. Except for that, the room is quite empty and dull, with plain concrete walls and a few fanlight windows. Yet each detail, along with a mix of stale and sweaty smell, is hitting me with the reason why we're here. For me, who already hate PE, it becomes more and more nerve-wracking. Why have I even suggested this? Me fighting? This doesn't sound possible even in another universe.

"Welcome to my playground!" Alex announces, spreading his arms wide.

While I'm staring at everything with wide eyes, impossibly trying to find some warmth or reassurance in the grim surroundings, he doesn't seem the least bothered by the grayness of the room, and it's the little sparkle in his dark eyes that brings light to the whole space.

"Come here, don't be scared!" He smiles, offering me the comfort I've looking for everywhere.

He makes me put down my bag and jacket in a corner. He is slow and careful as you would be with a kitten stepping in the wild for the first, leading me by the hand to the middle of the room. Actually, I must be more skittish than a little cat, especially when I lose the warmth of his hands.

Although, I find a burning heat as he takes off his jacket. I forget the horror setting of sports gear; I think I even forget how to breathe. All my attention is caught by the scene before my eyes. I don't know if it's me, but it seems to slow down like we're in some movie where the hero tears off his jacket before saving the damsel in distress and defeating the villain, or maybe he's the bad guy preparing to leap on his prey. Anyway, I can't take my eyes off this hero before me. I'm watching hypnotized the white tank top appearing under, and especially everything it reveals: his chiseled arms, the black patterns contrasting with his white skin and highlighting the firm muscles, and the strong chest that we can easily guess underneath. 

"So, are you ready?"

I widen my eyes when in two steps he's standing in front of me. I don't even dare to look up in his eyes; the smirk playing on his lips is already enough to turn my face into a blaze, though they're not the only part burning...

"Er... I don't know..." I suddenly remember why we're here, and I sense the disaster movie coming.

"Don't worry, we'll start slow. I'll explain it to you." His gaze bores into mine with reassuring eyes.

"You're the teacher..." I hold his intense stare, finding back the boldness that he can only light with his dark eyes.

"The first rule to know is..." His expression becomes serious and solemn, and I'm almost stopping my breath in the suspenseful silence he makes sure to create. "... there is no rule in street fighting and self-defense." One of his famous smirks stretches his lips again. "You can use whatever you want and whatever you have, and aim every part of your opponent."

"Whatever you want?!" The knots in my stomach jump to my throat. "So, when you do street fights for money, you can use knives and other weapons?!"

Everyone knows he does street fighting, and he's actually really good at it apparently – which I don't doubt from what I've experienced! But once again, it's another dangerous part of his life, of him, that I've forgotten.

"No, not for them, but for self-defense and other unprepared fights, you can," he simply explains.

"Okay." I let out the breath I've been holding; I don't even know why...

"And the other important thing is to always stay alert." He goes on with his 'lesson'.

"Yeah, I noticed that!" I note, the memory bringing now a smirk to my lips rather than the stupor I've had for a few days.

Though I haven't expected to see the remorse cross his eyes upon my words, and it's a cloud that I really don't like in his tenebrous eyes, so I add with a playful grin, "That's a lot of rules for 'no rule'!"

A smile reappears on his handsome face, and he squints his eyes at me. "Ha Ha... It's not a rule but an advice!"

I regret those words too when it's a devious sparkle that springs in his dark gaze.

"But if you're so clever, then we'll start practice!" He grins mischievously, while mine disappears. "Show me how you fight. Try to get to me!"

I stare at him with wide eyes. Am I supposed to fight him?! Me, the shy and clumsy nerd, and him, THE baddest bad boy. This self-defense lesson might really not have been my brightest idea, and I should really think more before speaking, especially around Alex.

"Come on! I won't hold it against you. And I owe you for Sunday!" He gives me a half-smile.

I smile back, and since he manages to make his invitation to kick him tempting, I try to throw him a punch, despite my brain and survival instinct screaming in unison that it's a bad idea. Though I don't use too much strength because I have no wish to hurt him, and he dodges easily anyway. I try again several times, punches and kicks, gaining strength and speed with my frustration, yet he is faster and dodges it every time.

For the last punch I try to throw, he doesn't move; he just stops smoothly my fist before it can hit him.

"Okay, I saw."

"I'm really bad... I can't defend myself..." I wince, realizing this has undoubtedly been a bad idea because I have the strength of a baby kitten, and I'm not even talking about my reflexes and agility of a lame elderly.

He gets closer. "I'm sure you would totally be able to defend yourself and kick the shit out of whoever would attack you, in case of emergency." Once again, his gaze switches to a deep intensity. "Hey! You're a badass inside!" He points a finger to my chest, smirking.

I smile shyly, shaking my head. "I'm not sure..."

"And it's a good thing you don't know yet, that's why I'm here to teach you!" He shrugs, keeping his smirk on his plump lips. "And I promise after my lessons, you'll be able to kick the ass of whoever tries to fuck with you!"

I laugh lightly. I still don't feel like a tiger, but at least, I am lighter.

He lifts up my fist, which is still in his hand. "First, never put your thumb inside when you make a fist, unless you want it to end up broken."

I watch him open my hand slowly, delicately unwrapping my fingers one by one. His touch feels like a feather stroke, and the gentleness hits me as he places my hand in a proper fist.

I barely have time to process that he goes around me and stands behind me. "And now, your posture."

He grabs my shoulders, his warm fingers creating shivers all up my neck and down my spine.

"Keep your shoulders down..." he rasps, his hoarse voice echoing near my ear like a secret spell. "Just relax..." His hot breath fanning over my neck is leading to the complete opposite effect as all my nerves are overwhelmed with this closeness.

His fingertips glide down my arms, slowly, and I could almost swear it is teasingly from the trail of goosebumps they're creating on their journey. Then suddenly, they grip my hips, catching my breath in the process.

"Your feet need to be firmly planted in the ground." His hands slide down just a few inches along my thighs, spreading a delicious tingling sensation all around, and my legs are everything but firm under his fingers.

He leans closer to my ear and whispers, "Perfect..."

Unwittingly, my body leans slightly against him. I'm fighting to keep my posture, yet I feel like putty in his hands.

"And always stay focused." With these words, he steps back, leaving me dumbfounded.

I almost groan in frustration, needing more of his warmth, wanting more of this tingling feeling. However, I take this opportunity to try to regulate my breathing and pull my spinning head back straight. It's like I've been in a trance; his words are echoing in my head and his touch is resonating in my body, but the rest is all a blur.

I'm burning everywhere, and when he comes back in front of me, the light smirk on his lips is exacerbating the heat. He doesn't say anything, but something in his eyes is telling me clearly that he knows the effect he's had on me, and that springs a new flame in me with the want to rip that smirk off of his handsome face or kiss it away; I don't know, and the more I'm staring at it, the more both option are tempting me.

"You have to always sense the next moves of your opponent, and anticipate yours, even when you're dodging his," he keeps explaining, as if nothing has happened a few minutes ago. Well maybe for him nothing has happened, but for me, my heart and all my senses are still trying to recover from our closeness.

Though, after a while, I finally manage to refocus as he shows me some moves: punches and kicks.

He stands in front of me, a few feet away, and the absence of proximity makes it easier to concentrate. I quickly get the basics, since he explains very clearly.

I'm actually impressed by the seriousness with which he trains and the self-discipline he has. People might think he is a bad boy who doesn't give a shit about nothing and that it's easy to fight. But in fact, it requires a lot of work, pain, and sweat to get to his level, and he works out several hours a week.

Who would like a fighting lesson with Alex? ;)

I hope you like this chapter, as there's more closeness... ;)

Please let me know what you think in the comments, vote, add to your library...

I'm new here, so your help and feedbacks are always more than welcome! :)