Page 82 of Connectio
“Good morning, Master Will,” several people reply. If he thinks for one second that I’m going to refer to him as Master Will, he has another think coming.
Slowly lowering my chest to the mat for the second time, I take note of five kids and two adults—one woman and one frail-looking man—all of them rising and falling at a much quicker pace than me.
Dylan springs up first and proceeds to jog around the outer edge of the mat, and the rest of the group follow. I’m only up to push-up number four.
“You may want to speed it up a little, Elizabeth,” Will says, amusement in his voice.
Arms straining, I glare at the son of a bitch.
He raises his hands in defence. “Okay. That’ll do. Jog around the mat twice then come back here and we’ll get started.”
Rising to my feet, I nearly stumble and fall flat on my face when Will unzips his jacket and shakes it off, revealing a loose black singlet that barely covers his hulk-like chest. Oh my!
“Come on, Ms Hanson!” Dylan yells as he passes me. “You’re too slow.”
I quickly focus on him but can’t help taking peeks at Will as I start my second lap, this time launching into a coughing and choking fit when he pulls down his tracksuit pants. Sweet legs of Hercules!
He steps out of each pant leg, now wearing nothing but lightweight jogging shorts that perfectly accentuate well-defined quads. I whack my chest with my palm, forcing it to wake up and help me breathe again.
“You all right?” he asks as I slow to a stop.
Bending at the waist, I nod then join the rest of the group who are standing before him, spaced roughly two metres apart.
“This is my special friend, Elizabeth,” he says, gesturing to me. “She’s—”
“She’s my schoolteacher,” Dylan blurts out.
Will continues. “Yes, she is. This is her first time boxing, so I hope you all make her feel welcome.”
Everyone smiles, so I give them a sheepish wave.
“Right, let’s get started. One hundred air jabs, fifty air jabs and hooks, then a hundred uppercuts.” What the fffk? I’m exhausted just listening to that.
Everyone starts punching the air, kinda like a Cobra Kai karate class. I try to copy, when Will slides in beside me and rests his hand on my lower back.
“Not you, sweetheart. We gotta work on your technique first.”
“My technique?”
He nods, eyes roaming my arms, shoulders, and chest. “You lefthanded or right?”
“Right.”
“Step forward on your left foot.” He squats, and I can almost see up his shorts.
“You won’t see much.”
I look straight ahead. “See much of what?”
“What I’m packin’.”
I snort. “I wasn’t trying to see what you’re packin’. They’re all the same anyway.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you are in for a treat.” Will palms my thigh and slowly glides his hand down over my knee and calf until he’s repositioning my foot. “God did not create us all equally.”
“Is that right?”
“Oui.”
