Page 31 of Finding Forever

RILEY

“Arms up!”

I groaned but lifted my arms in front of me.

Eric moved fast, stepping into my space like a force four hurricane. He deflected my punch, twisted to the right, and kicked his foot toward my kneecap.

I blocked the strike and spun away.

Finally, he stood still. “You’re learning.”

I dropped to the ground. Sweat dripped down my face and splattered against my arm. “This isn’t what I imagined when you offered to show me how to defend myself.”

Eric grinned. “You’re on a fast-track program.”

“My mother always said I was an overachiever.” I rolled over and groaned. I’d landed butt first on the ground so many times that I was sure I’d have a permanently bruised bottom. “I thought you might have been a little rusty after leaving the police force.”

Eric held out his hand. “It’s like riding a bicycle. Once you’ve learned how, you never forget.”

I wrapped my hand around Eric’s wrist. He pulled me upright, setting me on my feet as if I weighed nothing. For the third day in a row, I’d learned two things. One, I was unfit. Two, Eric’s smile was every bit as lethal as his self-defense moves.

“Your left-hand side is strong. When you throw a punch with your right arm, use your entire shoulder to give it more impact.”

“Yes, sir.” If I could lift my incredibly strong left arm, I would have saluted him.

Eric rested his hands on his hips. “Alex thinks these classes might be too much.”

“What gave him that idea?” I stretched my arms in front of me, biting my lip, determined not to groan twice in as many minutes.

“He saw the way you were hobbling around the dinner table last night.”

“I’m using muscles I didn’t know I had, that’s all. After I have a hot shower, I’ll feel much better.”

Eric didn’t look like he believed me. “If I’m going too fast, I can slow down.”

I knelt on the ground and stretched my hamstrings. “You don’t need to do that,” I wheezed. “I’ll be okay.”

Sherlock ambled across the backyard, sitting beside me as I slowly stretched the other leg.

“You should keep this.” Eric shoved his hand under my nose.

I stared at the small wooden whistle. “I can’t do that. Your dad made it for you.”

“If something happens and you need help, Sherlock will find you.”

“Nothing will happen to me. Between what we’re doing and the police investigation, the stalker doesn’t stand a chance.” I closed Eric’s hand around the whistle. “Keep it somewhere safe.”

As soon as our fingers touched, I knew I’d made a mistake. I was attracted to Eric. If anything happened, it would spoil our friendship. Falling for my neighbor was the worst thing I could do. Especially when Eric was hiding from someone with mental health issues.

I picked up my towel and pulled myself to my feet. “Have you heard from the detective in New York City?”

“They found some fingerprints on the furniture at the warehouse.” Eric watched me move farther away. “The FBI’s running them through their database.”

“Do the police think they belong to the person who staged the murder scene?”

“They’re keeping an open mind. The building was abandoned and squatters have been using most of the rooms. They don’t want to arrest the wrong person.”

I wouldn’t have been so forgiving. “Someone has been harassing you for months. There must be more evidence than a couple of fingerprints.”

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