Page 26 of Glamour and Grit

He laughs and scoots a little bit closer on the sofa.

“Are you a makeup artist or a therapist?”

“I’m a little of both. Look, it takes hours for the prosthetics and the applications to dry, and then you move onto the next layer, which also takes hours to dry…you wind up talking to your models and actors. A lot. I can probably bury a career or two with what I know, let’s just say that.”

“I have to warn you, there have been more than a few women who’ve tried to ‘save’ me.”

“Who says I want to save you? I don’t think you need saving, Dane. I think you need support, not a savior.”

“Let me teach you how to defend yourself, Selene. The number one priority right now is keeping you safe. What I need can wait.”

I decide not to press him any further,for now.

“Alright Dane, teach me self-defense.”

A smile flashes over his face. When Dane smiles, it takes my breath away. His gaze flashes over my form.

“You might want to trade out the designer jeans for something easier to move in.”

“Um, I think I have a pair of yoga pants stashed in my bag.”

I quickly change into more appropriate workout gear, lacing up a pair of sneakers I’ve barely broken in. For a moment, I sit and stare at my shoes and the unfamiliar floor beneath. My life took a complete turn, out of nowhere. While Dane has been an unexpectedly pleasant surprise, it doesn’t change the fact my little snow globe of existence has been seriously shook.

A gentle knock at the door heralds Dane.

“Are you decent?”

“I’m dressed,” I quip back, offering a weak smile as Dane enters the room.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m okay. Just contemplating how things got like this.”

“You’re going to get through this, Selene.”

He brings me outside, onto the patio connecting his two ‘wings’ of the container house. The air smells crisp and clean as he spreads out a rubber wrestling mat to cushion the wooden deck.

“All right, let me see your battle stance.”

I laugh and pantomime like a kung fu master.

“I’m serious. How do you stand when you’re ready to throw down?”

“Um, I don’t.”

He tilts his head to the side, confusion reigning in his green eyes.

“What do you mean, you don’t?”

“I mean I don’t. I don’t have a fighting stance because I don’t get into fights.”

“You’ve never been in a fight? Not ever?”

“No, why is that so hard to believe? I mean, I got into a couple of shoving matches in first grade or something, but I’ve never been in an actual fight. Most people haven’t, you know.”

He stops and thinks about that for a long moment.

“You know, you’re probably right. I guess I thought my experience was the same as everyone’s but that was a stupid way to think about it.”

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