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I place my hands over my head and try to breathe for a few minutes, sweat dripping down my face. “Fuck, that’s harder than I thought.”

“Right? Two minutes seems easy until you get going. How are your knuckles?”

Flipping my hands over, I show him. Fingers are red, but there’s no busted skin. I’ve made sure to keep my fingers in the correct position so I don’t break them before the fight.

“They say Bruce Lee used to punch metal to strengthen his knuckles,” Tyler tells me as I grab another bottle of water.

“Oh yeah? Is that tomorrow’s drill?” I mock.

Tyler snickers. “Don’t tempt me. When I was in the military, I used brick walls to condition my hands for fighting. That’s gonna be your homework. Also, break’s over. Let’s go again.”

I let out a laugh before Tyler starts the timer, and then I begin again. We keep doing reps with breaks between. For the next hour, we continue techniques, but he doesn’t let me rest for long. Next, he has me working on more drills, leg kicks, and blocking.

After three hours of working, I’m ready to pass the fuck out and beg for an oxygen line. My arms and legs feel like jelly, and I can already tell I’m going to be sore as hell tomorrow. Groaning, I lean against the wall with my palms on my knees, panting. Tyler laughs, looking like he hardly broke a damn sweat, and I stand, rolling my eyes at him.

“I went easy on you today,” he tells me as he stuffs the mitts back into his bag.

“Easy, my ass,” I say, my heart still racing.

He slaps me on the back. “It’s gonna get harder from here, so you need to stay focused and highly motivated. You don’thave time to slack off. I need you on your A game if I’m gonna properly train you.”

Moving my head from side to side, I crack my neck. Every part of me literally feels stiff. “And how would you suggest I do that?”

“My first suggestion: staying celibate.”

I glance at him and chuckle, but his expression doesn’t change. “Wait, you’re serious,” I deadpan.

He nods. “I am. No sex means you’ll have pent-up aggression, and it’ll motivate you even more to win. You’re fighting so you and Maddie can have a life together. It’s a mental technique, but it works. Famous boxers and UFC fighters stay celibate before a big fight to keep themselves focused.”

My mouth falls open. “I’ll murder someone.” Or Maddie might murder me.

“And that’s the point,” he quips, smirking. “Maddie will understand once she knows why.”

“No, she’s gonna tell both of us to fuck off,” I argue.

“What else is new?” He grins. “Hey, don’t forget to ice your hands when you get home so they don’t swell. Take a painkiller or anti-inflammatory, too.”

“Okay, Mom,” I tease, but he knows what he’s talking about. I need to take care of my body while training for the fight of my life.

For the most part, I thought of myself as fit and in shape, but Tyler proved me wrong. There’s a lot of work for me to do, and it starts with eating right, getting enough sleep, and conditioning my body to be a fighting machine. At least, I can use my strength when wrangling criminals who want to fight back. Typically my size scares them, and I’m strong and fast enough to capture them, but when Tyler is done with me, I have a feeling my entire body composition will go back to how it was when I was an athlete.

Before I go home, I stop and get a protein shake to replenish my muscles. By the time I pull into the driveway, Tyler is already home, but Maddie’s left for class.

“Doing alright?” Tyler chuckles when he sees me walking slowly into the kitchen.

“Kiss my ass.” I grab a couple of ice packs from the freezer, then go to lie on the sofa.

Tyler follows. “Your body is used to cardio and lifting weights, but it’ll adjust in a few days. Same time tomorrow morning?” He flashes a shit-eating smirk as he sits in the recliner.

I grunt, putting one pack on my shoulder and the other on my hand. “If I can even walk.”

“Take a hot shower after you ice and drink lots of water. You should know the drill from football,” he states.

“I graduated four years ago,” I remind him. “I felt better my first day of freshman year when I nearly twisted my ankle and broke a rib.”

“Well, good thing you won’t have to worry about straining a muscle during sex.”

“Pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to even if I could,” I say bluntly. “Maddie’s gonna freak out when she sees me. You bruised my entire body.”