Page 14 of Tamed (The Courtside King Duology 1)

“C’mon.” Jegs headed for the door. “It’s almost time.”

They followed him inside, signed in at the counter, and grabbed their doboks; white pants, white belt, and a white cross-over jacket with black trim. They changed in the locker room, then sauntered out to the edge of the mat.

Breck regarded his surroundings. He’d expected an unattractive space. To his surprise, the place was pretty inviting. No unsightly, off-white walls, but brick. Warm recessed lighting instead of glaring florescent bulbs. Hardwood floors in place of industrial tiling. Even the mat beneath his feet looked stylish; not an offensive bright blue, but rather, an illustrious black.

A floor-to-ceiling mirror stretched across the back. Up front, those big arched windows stood nearly ten feet tall. Overall, the whole place looked reminiscent a renovated dance studio.

And who knew? Maybe it was.

Breck regarded those present. Mostly college students—who’d already spotted him and were now openly staring. No surprise. He was an icon on campus. A superstar. He lifted his chin and assumed his I’m-the-man demeanor.

And that’s when he saw him. What had to be the headmaster. And not just because he looked older than everyone else. But due to the way he carried himself with such confidence and poise. Breck could feel his presence just as much as he could see it. Which was saying something, since the dude was seriously big. Oh, yeah. Sensei filled out his dobok in alllll the right places.

Breck stared at him, unable to help it. He’d never seen a man look so masculine yet so refined. Sleek black hair pulled into a tiny ponytail. A sexy line of stubble framing his chiseled jaw. High cheekbones. Perfect nose. Smooth, tan skin. Midnight eyes so dark and mysterious, they sparked a fire in the pit of Breck’s gut. Breck forced his gaze away and refocused on his friends.

Jegs grinned as students kept glancing their way, then puffed out his chest and murmured, “That’s right. The Mighty Three have arrived.” A name he’d coined their trio early on—though it hadn’t taken long for the entire campus to adopt it—because, yup, fame had gone to Jegs’ head, too. Understandable, though. On the court, he was wicked skilled. The fans worshipped him nearly near as much as they worshipped Breck.

Charlie—the other big-head in their threesome—smirked wryly and nodded. “Donchu worry, ladies,” he uttered under his breath. “There’s enough of us to go around.”

Breck coughed a laugh. Though, to be fair, chicks did love Charlie as well. Breck supposed he could see the allure. The big, lanky shooting guard exuded much charm. With his shaggy hair and those puppy dog eyes and that happy-go-lucky swagger? The women called him adorable. To Breck, he just looked doofy. But he liked Charlie. They were tight. Not like Breck was with his besties, but still.

Plus, Charlie could put some serious points on the scoreboard.

“Welcome, class,” a velvet voice resounded.

Breck glanced over his shoulder. The guy in charge was headed toward the mat.

“I’m Kai Nakado, gwanjang-nim of this dojang.” He stepped onto the padded black floor cover, moved to the center, then eyed those present. “You, however, can address me as Grandmaster.”

Students smiled and swapped looks, roughly thirty in total.

“The proper greeting from this point on is a bow at the waist. To myself and my assistants, as well as to each other. Respect is a very big part of martial arts and I’ll expect to see it regularly from each of you.” He demonstrated, waiting expectantly in the respective position, arms at his sides, until those gathered reciprocated in turn.

Charlie grinned, watching Breck stiffly give the gesture a go. “The mighty king bows.”

“Shut up,” Breck muttered.

Jegs snickered.

“Good.” Kai straightened and clasped his hands behind his back, then casually strolled barefoot around the mat. “You’ve come here to learn Taekwondo. But who can tell me what Taekwondo is?”

“The Korean art of unarmed self-defense,” some guy down the way from Breck offered.

Kai inclined his head. “With emphasis on speed and agility. Tae means ‘foot,’ kwon means ‘fist,’ and do means ‘the way.’ So quite literally, Taekwondo means ‘the way of the foot and fist’.”

He rattled off a few more bits of information that Breck couldn’t care less about, then moved on to laying down the rules.

“Number one, be on time. Coming late is disrespectful. Number two, don’t be the guy who stinks. Mind your hygiene. Also, lose the bling. It’s dangerous for everyone. And no one wants your blood on their dobok.”

Breck grinned and cut a look at Jegs’ ears. Homie loved his diamond studs. Jegs shot him a bite-me scowl, then quickly refocused.

“Number three, bring a notebook. Jot down everything you learn. Trust me, it makes a difference. And isn’t an option.”

Wonderful, Breck thought dryly. Because he didn’t take enough notes in college as it was.

“Number four…” Kai continued, making his way toward Breck’s trio.

Breck’s gaze locked on the guy. He moved like a predator. Soundless and fluid, yet lethal.

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