Very good.
Ethan saw the smile.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You smiled.”
“You noticed.”
He nearly smiled too.
Then he changed levels.
Fast.
I shifted my hips back, caught his shoulder, and circled.
He adjusted before I could capitalize.
Advertisement
The movement drew a louder reaction from the crowd.
But neither of us cared anymore.
Something strange happened in those first thirty seconds.
The audience disappeared.
So did the money.
So did the ridiculous argument that had put us there.
All that remained was the conversation people sometimes had without words.
Pressure.
Response.
Movement.
Adjustment.
Patience.
Ethan tried to pull me into the game he knew best.
I refused.
I tried to keep the exchange where I felt comfortable.
Advertisement
He refused.
For the first time since I had met him, I understood something about him.
He wasn’t careless.
He performed carelessness.
There was a difference.
Underneath it was discipline.
Years of it.
He had simply gotten too accustomed to using confidence as armor.
Eventually, he caught my arm and turned the corner.
I gave ground rather than fighting the movement.
We went to the mat.
A collective sound rose around us.
Ethan immediately tried to establish control.
Advertisement
I framed against his shoulder, created space, and shifted.
