“You wrestle?”
“A little.”
That irritated him more than an insult would have.
He rushed forward.
I could see Claire saying something from the edge of the mat, but I couldn’t hear her over the blood pulsing in my ears.
Derek threw a knee.
I stepped inside it.
My palm struck his chest—not hard, merely enough to break his balance.
Then I hooked his ankle.
He hit the mat flat on his back.
The crowd made a collective sound.
Not cheering now.
Confusion.
Derek rolled instantly and jumped up.
His face had gone red.
“Lucky.”
I wiped the blood from my lip.
“Probably.”
He attacked again.
This time he stopped trying to impress anyone.
No flashy combinations.
No spinning kick.
He came to hurt me.
That was his second mistake.
His first had been calling me.
His third would be believing I wanted to beat him.
I didn’t.
I wanted
