Page 85 of Meet Me In The Dark
Unexpected emotion clogs my throat when he grips my chin and tilts my face up to meet his gaze. “Ready?”
I nod. “Ready.”
“Feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructs, stepping closer. “Keep your balance. Your feet are your foundation.”
I adjust my stance until he nods.
“Now, fists up. Protect your face. Keep your elbows tucked.”
I follow his instructions, heat curling low in my stomach at the seriousness in his gaze.
“Look at you, Blackwood. Practically gentle,” Mateo calls as he passes us.
“Fuck off,” Julian growls, eyes never leaving mine.
Mateo laughs, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t worry, Celeste. He only bites when he’s scared.”
A soft laugh escapes me, and the tension relaxes just a little from my shoulders.
With Mateo out of sight, Julian raises two padded palms. “Punch my hands. Left, then right. Put your weight behind it.”
When I follow his instructions, he shakes his head. “Harder. Like you’re actually angry.”
My arms fall to my sides. “My anger’s kinda gone now.”
His lips curl into a smirk as his eyes sparkle with pure mischief. “Remember what I said to you yest—”
I don’t let him finish. Fury reignites as I slam my fists into the pads so hard Julian almost stumbles backward.
Almost.
With the sight of his smile widening, satisfaction blooms in my veins.
“Better,” he breathes. “Again.”
I clench my teeth and throw a harder punch.
“Use your hips. Power comes from your core.”
I unleash everything, each punch landing with satisfying force. The anger, the confusion, the months of frustration, it all pours out of me until my lungs are burning for air.
“There she is,” he says, brushing his knuckles against my chin.
By the time we’re finished, the sweat is slick on my skin and my breath is rasping from my lungs, but I’m already asking if he’ll bring me back next week.
He nods without a word, eyes lingering on my flushed cheeks.
On the drive home, the soft sounds of“Wicked Game”by Chris Isaak fill the silence.
“Thank you,” I say out of nowhere.
Julian’s brows flick up. “For what?”
“For bringing me there. To Mateo’s. It’s obviously personal to you.” I shrug, staring out the window. “I had fun.”
There’s a low laugh from his side of the car. “Why am I not surprised the biggest smile I’ve seen from you is after you’ve been punching something?”
“Some people do yoga. I hit things,” I say, grinning wider.
