Page 27 of Glamour and Grit

“It’s not stupid, most people, men in particular, are at least a little bit egocentric.”

Dane smiles and cocks an eyebrow.

“And we’re back to the psychology again.”

“This is the part where you’re going to tell me I’m smart for someone who does zombie makeup, right? I might not have a fancy Ivy League education but I know stuff.”

Dane’s simile fades, and his green eyes grow serious.

“Selene, you’re a smart woman. A damn smart woman, a hell of a lot smarter than me. You’ve held it together through all of this better than I could have expected or hoped for. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Heat blossoms onto my cheeks. I can’t look straight at him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Okay, basic hand-to-hand stance goes like this. Are you right or left handed?”

“Left handed.”

“Okay, south paw. That's a big advantage because most people can’t deal with the fists flying opposite of how they expect.”

“If you say so.”

“Here, turn yourself slightly sideways, and keep your hands up.”

I try to do as he asks, but it feels awkward.

“Wait, if I’m left-handed don’t I want to lead with my left hand, not my right?”

“No, your left is your power hand. Your right is for jabs and othershort, swift attacks. You set them up with your right and take them down with your left.”

He coaches me through a jab. It still feels awkward. I’m just not a violent person, and the idea of rearranging someone’s face doesn't come naturally to me.

But I keep trying, and Dane seems pleased with my progress. I enjoy the grappling training a lot more, mostly because it seems less violent somehow.

“Remember to break my balance before you try and execute the hip throw,” Dane says as he grabs my shoulders. I try to remember the complicated steps. Balance breaking, form fitting, execution…

I spin around and basically wriggle my butt all over his crotch instead of flipping him head over heels, like I was supposed to. Our laughter echoes across the wooded compound.

“I suck at this.”

“No, no, you did really good with the shoulder throw. You should have this one down because of your hip structure.”

“My hip structure?” I gasp. “Are you trying to say I have ‘birthing’ hips, Mr. Dane?”

“I’m saying you better be ready to defend.”

He rushes at me, and without thinking, I do the hip throw. He goes right over, easy as can be.

“You scared me,” I say as I help him back to his feet.

“Sorry, but you were overthinking it. I had to take your brain out of the equation and let you act on instinct.”

“I think you’re giving my instinct too much credit, but thanks.”

“No way. Let’s practice some ground grappling and escapes.”

Ground grappling and escapes turns out to be difficult. He doesn’t go easy on me, and I end up with mat burn in more than a few places.

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