Instead, he grabs my wrist and twists just enough to make me lose balance, then lets go before I fall.
"Be controlled ," he says. "Not emotional."
I hate that he’s right.
We reset again and this time I don’t wait for him.
I move first, it’s messy and probably obvious. But I aim for his midsection the way he showed me earlier. He blocks easily, but I don’t stop. I swing again. And again.
He blocks,and moves around me.
Then he delivers another sharp smack to my backside when I overextend.
I gasp. "Aaron!"
"You keep leaning forward, I’m correcting you."
"You are enjoying doing that aren’t you."
He actually smirks this time. "A little."
That does it.
Frustration boils over, making me hot and reckless. Befor I can overthink it, I launch myself at him.
I just jump at him.
He makes a surprised sound as I wrap my arms around his shoulders and try to tackle him down.
For half a second, I think I might actually succeed.
Then he shiftsa nd it’s smooth like he’s done this a thousand times. He pivots his hips, hooks his leg behind mine, and suddenly the world tilts. The next thing I know, my back hits the mat with a dull thud, the air whooshes out of my lungs.
Aaron comes down with me but not hard. He braces one arm near my head so he doesn’t crush me, but his other hand pins my wrist to the mat instantly.
My other arm gets trapped just as fast. My legs kick instinctively, but he shifts his weight lower, knee sliding between my thighs to keep me from twisting away.
It happens so quickly I barely register the transition.
One second I’m attacking... the next I’m flat on my back, breathing hard, with him partially on top of me, holding me down like it’s effortless.
"Impulse," he says, not even winded in the slightest bit . "That’s what gets you hurt."
I glare up at him, my chest rising and falling ffast.
"You don’t have to pin me like this."
"If I don’t, you’ll try to headbutt me."
I consider it.
He raises a brow. "Exactly."
I struggle once more, trying to twist my hips free. He adjusts immediately, tightening his hold just enough to stop me without hurting me.
His forearm presses lightly across my collarbone to keep me flat. His body heat seeps through my clothes, we are both breathing harder now, faces closer than they need to be.
From a distance, I know exactly how this might look like but in the moment, all I feel is irritation.
"Get off of me." I demand.
"Tap out."
"I’m not tapping out."
He leans a fraction closer. "Then you stay there."
I strain again, but he’s solid with no panic in him at all.
My ponytail is half undone now , strands of hair stuck to my cheek. I lay there helplessly while mt lungs are still trying to catch up.
"You’re stronger than you look," he says quietly. "But strength without control is useless."
"Stop giving me speeches."
He almost laughs.
And that’s when the door opens, neither of us hears it at first.
It’s the shift in the air that makes Aaron’s eyes flick up. Mine follow immediately after.
Zane stands just inside the training room.

I ignore it and sit up on my own, brushing hair out of my face.

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