Daniel always kept his space where he could, and slowly worked his way to more contact moves. He started with how to get out of someone grabbing my wrist, and it shocked me how simple the move was. I’d always assumed I was too weak to ever defend myself, but the move wasn’t based on strength. He told me the weak spots and how to exploit them.
“Is it okay if I touch you?” he asked.
“You kind of already have.”
“Yeah, but this time will have more contact. I’ll be coming up behind you.”
Everything stopped. My heart, my lungs, my muscles. Everything except my brain. That worked at warp speed, remembering two bands of steel wrapping around me and pulling me back with a hand over my mouth.
My eyes fluttered as I struggled against the images bombarding me.
The past is funny like that. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. No matter how much work you did to accept and understand and move past it, it creeps back in like you hadn’t spent years of therapy working to be okay.
“We don’t have to.” Daniel’s voice penetrated the panic like a needle popping a balloon. Everything rushed back like a wave crashing into me.
All of a sudden, my heart beat too hard, my lungs moved too fast, my muscles wouldn’t stop twitching.
You’re better than this. You’re stronger than this.
I was stronger than this. I spent too much time working to be mentally stronger than this. Now, I wanted to be physically stronger, so I never had to have that fear again.
Inhaling as deep as I could, I stretched my lungs, forcing them to slow down. As I exhaled, I found five red things in the room, counting them off.
One, the square mat we were standing on. Two, the zipper on Daniel’s bag. Three, the seam of my workout pants. Four, a pile of yoga mats stacked in a corner. Five, the laces on Daniel’s shoes.
Another deep breath that came easier this time.
“No, I want to do this. Just go slow.”
Daniel collected himself quickly and didn’t push me on my near panic attack. He didn’t stop everything and ask me if I was okay. He didn’t ask if I wanted to talk about it.
He only nodded and talked me through every step of what was happening. When his arms banded around me, they were gentle and almost hovering, rather than gripping too tight. Surprisingly, I wanted to sink into his chest like it was a warm embrace.
There it was again—the comfort I only felt with him. Gratitude had tears burning the backs of my eyes, but I blinked them away. Daniel had already fielded enough emotions from me, so instead, I focused on his words and the way they vibrated against my back.
The last move he taught me was a hip toss if my attacker came at me from the front. That one was harder to maneuver with Daniel’s six-three bulky frame and my five-five wimpy body. I made a mental note to join the gym outside. Maybe adding muscle would add to my mental strength as well.
“Okay, let’s give it a real try this time,” he suggested, picking himself up off the floor.
“I kind of like you falling on purpose for me. Builds my ego.”
He laughed as he got into position. “Ego won’t get you out of a situation.”
“Fair enough,” I grumbled, resting my hands on his shoulders.
“Remember, jerk and push as hard as you can.”
I jerked him toward me, turning my hips to the left and sticking my leg out behind him. Just as quickly, I shoved him with all my strength. Too much strength because the momentum of the push took me down with him. His arms banded around me when he noticed we were both going down, and he did his best to cushion my fall.
We rolled, and his weight pressed me into the mat. I held my breath and braced myself for the impact of panic, but it never came. Daniel launched up and off me just as fast as we’d fallen.
I laid back on the mat, breathing hard and staring up at the lights, in awe of my body’s lack of fear.
“Okay?” he asked, laid out beside me.
“Yeah.”
“Good. So next time, let go of my shoulders when you shove.”
“That would probably be smart,” I laughed.
“Again?”
“Yeah. Definitely, again.”
We repeated the move three more times, and I only fell once.
“I’m getting good at this. Maybe I missed my calling as a fighter,” I joked, holding two fists up and bouncing from foot to foot.
He shook his head, laughing. “You did good.”
I stopped bouncing and watched Daniel pack up his bag. Gratitude flooded me, and I swallowed down the tears threatening to break free. I’d already shown enough emotion in front of Daniel to last a lifetime. I would not cry right now.
“Thank you, Daniel,” I said softly.
“Any time,” he said easily, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Maybe we can do this again?”
“Yeah. I’d like that.” My stomach grumbled embarrassingly loud, and I pressed my hand to calm it. “Now, it’s time to go home and eat.”
“Would you want to grab something to eat? Obviously, nothing nice since this is all I have.” He gestured down his body, and my eyes were helpless but to follow, scanning over his gray sweatpants again. I somehow managed to not stare the whole time, because Daniel filled out sweats like you wouldn’t believe. His thighs pressed against the material, and I wondered, not for the first time, what kind of muscles Daniel hid behind his clothes.
“I think you look great,” I almost whispered.
His brows rose a fraction in surprise before his lips followed. “You
