Chapter 8: Reflexes

Proximity

The garage was still warm from the afternoon sun. Not stifling—but enough to make everything feel closer. Denser.

I stretched out on the mat, barefoot, ponytail high, arms loose and ready.

Eli waited across from me. Shirtless. Focused. Tempting.

I didn’t say that last part out loud.

“You ready?” I asked, rolling my neck.

He nodded. “Always.”

We circled each other like we were just training. Like my pulse wasn’t already climbing. Like my thighs weren’t still sore from grinding out thoughts of him last night.

I came in first. Quick jab. He blocked it.

Then a kick. Low. Testing.

He grunted but didn’t flinch.

“Not bad,” I murmured.

“Wasn’t trying to impress you.”

Liar.

Reaction Time

I moved again—faster. A one-two combo meant to push him backward. He deflected, pivoted, and came at me with a sweep.

I jumped it easily.

He recovered faster than I expected, coming in tighter. Our bodies grazed. My breath caught. His did too.

That half-second of hesitation?

I used it.

Spun, locked his arm, pushed him toward the mat. He resisted, but not completely.

When we landed, he was beneath me.

Breathless. Staring.

I held the position longer than I needed to. My hips pressing into him. My hair falling over one shoulder as I leaned in.

“Still not impressed?” I asked.

His voice was low. “Very.”

Watching Her Watch Us

Mama Caceres watched from the doorway. Silent. Still.

She hadn’t meant to. She was bringing out fresh towels and cold water, like she always did after our Sunday sessions.

But the way we moved—too close, too synced—stopped her.

She stayed in the shadow of the door, one hand on the frame, eyes fixed.

It wasn’t just the sparring. It was the energy. The pull.

The way Carla pinned Eli with a smirk and didn’t get up. The way Eli looked up at her like she was the only force in the room that could shake him.

Mama’s fingers curled.

She turned away before they noticed. But not before her breath hitched.

Unspoken

I finally stood, offered him a hand. He took it without a word.

We didn’t talk much after that. Just drank water. Cooled down. Sat on the edge of the mat like nothing had happened.

Like I didn’t still feel him under me.

Like I wasn’t imagining what else I could pin.

But I said nothing. And so did he.

When I left the garage, the evening breeze hit my skin like a warning.

If we kept this up...

Something was going to give.

And I didn’t know if it would be him—or me.