but not because of anger. Sawyer buckled himself in, then started the engine. It was close to five, which meant I only had an hour or so to get to my kickboxing class across town…if we were actually done for the day.

He drove us back to the station with an efficiency and economy I couldn’t help but admire. I looked at his profile as we drove, wondering why I found him attractive at all. Sure, he had that chiseled jaw and knife-straight nose, but his mouth was always in a firm line, pressed hard and unyielding. My gaze drifted down to this crotch, where I wondered what else I might find that was hard and unyielding.

He looked over at me and frowned. “Are you having a seizure?”

I felt the heat rise to my face. “Over what? You? Being in your presence?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

I snorted and brushed away some lint from my pants. “You have a really high opinion of yourself.”

“I have high standards, and those high standards guide me and my decisions.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Please don’t tell me you’re into the power of mindset.”

“And what if I was? Some of the most successful people are fanatical about mindset. Ever wonder why?”

“No,” I shot back, suddenly curious to know more. He was impassioned about this. “But why don’t you tell me, guru?”

He ignored both the comment and me until we were bumping back into the stations’ lot and parking between two other cars.

“What do we do now?” I asked, getting out.

Sawyer glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly six. We’ll start again fresh tomorrow, I think.”

I held out my hands for the keys to my truck, wiggling my fingers. He threw them over the top of the cab, and I caught them after a small fumble. He smirked.

Douche canoe.

Back inside the station, I stashed the sword back into the arms room, then grabbed my bag from under my desk. As I walked to the door, Faline stopped me.

“Got a hot date?” she asked with a sweet smile.

“Kind of? I’ve got a kickboxing class.”

Her lusty, lusty eyes lit up. “Ooo, I love kickboxing. Well, have fun!”

I gave her a wave, then walked back outside and got into my truck. I took a quick detour home to get changed, then made it to the gym just in time.

Seven

“Cutting it fine!” Mike called from his position in the center of the mats where he ran the warmup drill.

“Sorry!” I dumped my sports bag on the side, toed off my shoes and joined the circle of people running. Sasha sidled up beside me, barely breaking a sweat.

“Working late?”

“Had to see a man about a vampire,” I shot back.

Sasha’s brows rose, but she said nothing more.

I got lost in the warm-up, feeling my stressed body ease as the endorphin rush hit it like a freight train. As soon as we broke off to do some kicking drills on the weight bags, I found Sasha once more and pulled her to the one farthest away. Sliding behind the bag to hold it, I motioned for her to start on the kicks. Mike was being a dick today, making us do one hundred fast kicks on one leg before swapping with our partner. I enjoyed the moment of peace while Sasha slammed her shin into the bag and sent it rocking ever so slightly. Damn, the girl was strong.

“Did you really go see a vampire today?”

“Yup.” I repositioned my hands, so she didn’t accidently kick me.

“I thought only PIG handled cases like that.”

Oh, shit. I hadn’t told Sash what had happened. Feeling like a terrible friend, I gave her the CliffsNotes and smugly enjoyed the way her eyes bulged.

“You’re working with PIG? But you’re not a supe.”

“Noted,” I conceded with a nod. “But my boss thought it would be funny for me to work with them.”

She finished her last kick and came back into a neutral stance, lowering her arms. Sasha didn’t sweat, she glowed…and she was glowing her ass all over the place tonight. “Swap,” she breathed.

Being careful not to walk in the way of someone else’s stray kicks, I found my position and, at Sasha’s nod, I began, calling out my number as I went.

“So, the case you’re working…?” Sash asked.

I shook my head, cursing when I landed a bad kick that got more of the top of my foot than it did shin. “Can’t talk about it.”

“Less talking and more technique,” Mike shouted, right over my shoulder, then walked away.

I glanced at Sasha, who only smiled. I got my hundred kicks out on my right leg, at which point we swapped again and made our other leg feel like Jell-O. Switching off my brain at kickboxing was one of the things I loved. I just got lost in the technique and instruction. Being on the mat didn’t require me to be defensive, or to even think about my past. I just got to live in the moment, in the sweat and the comradery of being surrounded by other people who liked it too.

When the class finished, I hugged Sasha and told her I’d call her about dinner on Friday night. We usually got something to eat and then hit the bars afterwards. She needed to blow off steam regularly, given she was a high school teacher and had to put up with emotional teenagers’ shit all day.

I waved goodbye to her, then retrieved my bag from the sidelines. I collapsed beside it and pulled off my wraps and shoved them inside. Next, I took off my ankle guards and gave them the same treatment. A few people milled around after class, casting appreciative looks over near reception. I looked too, because I’m nosy, and stiffened at the sight of Faline standing there.

She was wearing a pair of leggings that did absolutely nothing to hide her banging body, and a tight tank top which highlighted her fantastic breasts. Seriously, why couldn’t I pull that off?

I glanced back at the

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