“You really do like making me eat mat, don’t you?” Tyler asked as they went to the changing room to get out of their sweat-soaked uniforms.
“I love anything that’s a challenge,” Jaime replied and stopped outside of the changing room. “I’ll just grab my bag and go. It’s getting late.”
That familiar wall of nervous energy enveloped Jaime again. The confident martial artist who had spent thirty minutes toying with Tyler and wrapping him into a pretzel was replaced with a shy, hesitant boy. Jaime bolted into the changing room ahead of Tyler but only stayed long enough to grab his bag and leave. Driving anywhere in a sweaty gi, no matter how close, was not something anyone would enjoy. Jaime kept his eyes on the ground as he bowed to Tyler.
“Sayonara, Sempai.”
He might not have known Jaime for long, but Tyler was determined to figure out why the man was so nervous around guys. For someone who obviously loved training as much as he did, Jaime flip-flopped between cautious defensiveness to downright passivity, depending on who he was working with. This was not the Jaime he’d seen on the dojo floor five minutes earlier when Jaime had him in a choke hold so secure he would have lost consciousness if he hadn’t tapped out. All Jaime’s confidence and self-assurance were gone.
Jaime didn’t even look up as he walked past Tyler.
“Sensei Melissa said you trained in high school. Why did you stop?”
Jaime turned and met his gaze with a pained expression.
“I made a mistake.” Jaime shrugged then shook his head. “I won’t make it again. Sayonara, Sempai. Thanks for the sparring match.”
“Sayonara, Jaime.”
Whatever had caused Jaime to abandon his training still ate at him and kept him from being the best martial artist he could be. Tyler was more determined than ever to help him out. In helping the students, Tyler inevitably learned more about himself.
Chapter 2
It had been years since Jaime had felt excited about walking into any dojo. Since Sempai Tyler had taken Jaime under his wing, Jaime had looked forward to the next class with the anticipation of a giddy schoolboy the first day of the new semester. The sessions with Sensei Melissa were excellent, and Jaime was learning a lot, but it was that time afterward when he got to spar with Sempai Tyler that made Jaime’s heart race and his palms sweat. Maybe it was more like that giddy schoolboy on his first date.
There was a sense of dread that came from the skill deficit between him and Sempai Tyler. Jaime knew Sempai Tyler could run circles around him if the man wanted to show off his stuff. That was until Jaime could find a solid hold. Then Sempai Tyler was in for a ride that usually landed him flat on the dojo floor. Beyond the pride of pinning Sempai Tyler, Jaime also delighted in a little sexual thrill that raced through him. It was entirely inappropriate, but no matter how many times he chastised himself, he couldn’t help the feeling. Jaime had sworn off the clubs three months ago, and the sparring matches were the closest he’d come to another man besides a handshake here and there at work.
Jaime tried not to dwell on it. Best to keep the feeling small and easily pushed aside. If he thought about it too much, he knew he’d obsess over it until he drove himself crazy. Instead he took a Zen approach of observing the feeling as it arose and letting it pass. When work dragged on and he had to listen to yet another prima donna tell him how to mix tracks, Jaime found his mind drifting to what his strategy would be the next time he and Sempai Tyler faced off. And about how he was going to pin Sempai Tyler again.
Even as he wrapped up his last session before heading to karate class, Jaime was plotting.
“Are they finished already?” Leila asked as Jaime deposited the paperwork from his last recording session on her desk. Leila scanned the papers. When Jaime had started, she’d saved his bacon on more than one account when he’d put in the wrong billing code or forgotten to log the session length. “Death OverLord? I bet they were real hard-asses.”
“Piece of cake.” Jaime gave her a wink. “Hard asses are my specialty.”
Leila gave a curt laugh, which she stifled as the band members came down the hall. Dressed head to toe in leather and chains, they looked like they had stepped out of a dystopian Mad Max future. Of course, the tats and piercings only added to the image they wanted to portray. The truth was Jaime loved working with death metal bands. They usually turned out to be the most polite and earnest musicians. Nothing like the stuck up American Idol-wannabes who would sell their mothers for a big break.
“Sweet demo.” Shocker, the lead vocal singer with a spiked purple Mohawk, waved the CD at Jaime as he headed for the door. “Next time we get enough coins together for an album we’ll be back.”
“My girlfriend is so going to dig this.” Pale Rider, the base player, gave Jaime the thumbs up before Axel joined him.
“Which one?” Axel threw his arm around Pale Rider. “Got one in every city, right?”
Pale Rider had talked nonstop about his girlfriend, BeeBee, whenever they took a break. It was actually kind of sweet. Although the other guys in the band gave him a hard time about it, Jaime could see envy in their eyes. It was the same envy Jaime felt whenever Pale Rider would rave about BeeBee’s cooking or how she could
