Page 61 of 4th Degree

22

SKYLAR

I’m walking on cloud 9 for the rest of the week. I get offered a few extra shifts at the restaurant that I can’t turn down, so I don’t get back to the gym for three days, but mentally, I spend the entirety of those days on the mats.

Despite Dominic giving me his number the night my mom fell, we don’t really talk on the phone. Not only is he not a big texter, but I’m also so swamped with work and schoolwork that the one time he does call me to see how my day was, I end up yawning three times in one minute. Plus, talking to him just reminds me of how much I miss him.

And when I finally walk back into the gym, and Dominic is the first person I see, all of that comes roaring to the surface.

“Hi,” I say, a giddy smile overtaking my face.

“Hey, Skylar.” He stands from the couch and walks over to the reception desk, giving me a small smile of his own. At the sight of him, my body wants nothing more than to hop this counter and into his arms. “How are you? How’s your week been?”

“Busy. Worked a lot. Studied a lot. The usual.” I swear it feels like my smile is going to crack my face, and I catch his eyes drifting down to my lips before meeting my gaze again, our minds clearly in the same place. “How’s your week been?”

His lip twitches as he leans forward slightly. “Good. Taught a lot. Trained a lot. The usual.”

I huff out a laugh, trying to ignore the tension brewing between us.

“So, what are we doing today?” I ask.

For some reason, that question triggers a nervous reaction. His eyes dart around the gym, and then into the office, before taking a step closer to me and speaking in a hushed voice.

“About that… I wanted to talk to you. We didn’t exactly discuss boundaries last time, or about how we’re going to play this in the open. I don’t want to assume what kind of relationship you want here, but for me, I’d prefer if we keep things professional during gym hours. My focus needs to stay on my fighters, and I need to be just Coach when I’m here.” His expression becomes apologetic. “I hope you can understand that.”

For a moment, I can only blink. Then…

I have to bite down on my lip to smother a smile.

“I meant, what are you teaching in class today...”

He stares at me. And then the faintest pink appears on his cheeks.

“Oh…uh, it’s kick week in Muay Thai, and armbar defense in jiu-jitsu.” He clears his throat.

I finally take pity on him and release the giggle I’ve been holding back. “That sounds good. And so does the clarity on our relationship.” He might go pinker at that, so I flatten my expression. “Okay, in all seriousness, I appreciate the honesty. I was on the same page as you, but it’s good to say it out loud. And I would never want to risk your name, or make you any less committed to your fighters, so I’m in complete agreement.” I lower my voice even more. “During gym hours, we’re nothing more than coach and student.”

He looks relieved when he nods. “Okay, then. So, we’re on the same page.”

I nod but then realize I missed the most important clarifying point. My tone is careful when I say, “But even after gym hours, I need this to stay casual. I think we both have our reasons, but on my end, it definitely can’t be a full-blown relationship. You’ve seen my life outside of here… I can’t let anything take my focus from that.”

“I understand,” he says, soothing the last of my worries. “Let’s just say we’re…enjoying each other’s company. Sound good?”

A grin stretches across my face. “Yes, Coach,” I purr.

His eyes heat at my tone. Laughing, I turn and make my way toward the changing room.

When jiu-jitsu finishes, I’m happy and exhausted. By the time the last bell rings, I collapse on the mat with a content sigh.

“I feel like my brain is going to explode from all the steps we have to remember in this goddamn sport,” Aiden groans from the other side of the mat.

“You better remember the steps to an armbar defense,” comes Tristan’s voice. “Your next opponent loves the arm, so I can pretty much guarantee he’s going to go for yours.”

Aiden flexes his bicep with a grin. “I mean, can you blame him?”

There’s a collective eye roll around the gym.

“But seriously, I’ve been concussed too many times to have a good memory.” I’m surprised when he turns his attention to me. “Hey, Miss Perfect Student, you got any notes I can borrow? I bet you’ve got a little notebook in that bag with all the steps listed.”

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