Chapter Six
A week later, Reed was finally able to fully grasp the concept of irony. He’d been a professional fighter for ten years, won more matches than he could count, kicked more asses than he was proud of, and what did you know—he was actually nothing but a big, fat coward.
He’d had plenty of opportunities to tell AJ the truth over the past week…and he’d chickened out every damn time.
On the bright side, he was pretty sure he’d officially gotten over Darcy. Yep, he hadn’t indulged in a single dirty fantasy about her for seven whole days. Hadn’t even jerked off, which he deserved a goddamn medal of achievement for, seeing as how he hadn’t gotten laid in almost three months. Thankfully, Sin had been busier than ever that weekend, and managing the club had distracted him from his unsatisfied libido.
He was confident that when he saw Darcy at the school, all the filthy, impure thoughts he’d once harbored about the woman wouldn’t resurface.
He was wrong.
One look was all it took, one cautious smile from that gorgeous mouth of hers, and not only did he spring a semi, but his mind was once again riddled with a week’s worth of lustful fantasies.
“Hi.” She greeted him on the front steps of Jefferson Middle School, wearing bright red shorts and a white tank top with the straps of a gray sports bra peeking out. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, giving her a youthful air that made him feel embarrassingly warm and fuzzy inside.
Reed managed a smile. “Hi.”
“The kids are waiting in the gym,” she told him. “They’re wearing their Phys. Ed uniforms like you suggested. Oh, and we also set up the mats you asked for.”
“Will any of the other teachers be joining us?” He held his breath, hoping she’d say yes.
To his disappointment, she shook her head. “I begged a bunch of them to help out, but it’s amazing how many teachers refuse to be involved in extracurricular activities unless they absolutely have to.”
They climbed the front steps, keeping three feet of distance between them as they headed into the school. Reed tried to walk at a brisk pace, eager to minimize the amount of time they spent alone, but he had no idea where he was going, so he was forced to match Darcy’s easygoing strides.
Rather than bring a change of clothes, he’d decided to save time by showing up in boxing shorts and a wife beater, both black. When he noticed Darcy eyeing his bare arms and then glimpsed the resulting flush on her cheeks, he had to force himself not to make a flirtatious remark.
If she wanted to check out his guns, then fine. He, on the other hand, planned on keeping things strictly professional between them.
No matter how sexy she looked in her workout gear.
When they entered the gymnasium, Reed was instantly greeted by the sound of twenty or so loud, boisterous thirteen-year-olds. A dozen boys were zigzagging beneath the basketball hoop in a fast-paced game of pickup, while a group of girls congregated on the bleachers spanning one wall, whispering and giggling to each other.
Darcy clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention, and suddenly those twenty or so pairs of eyes were wholly focused on Reed.
“Everyone head to the bleachers,” Darcy called out.
Sneakers squeaked on the shiny floor as her students dutifully hurried across the gym to take their seats. Darcy and Reed walked over and stopped in front of the long stretch of blue mats that had been laid out on the floor.
“Guys, this is Reed Miller,” Darcy said cheerfully. “He came here today to teach you—”
“How to kick butt,” one of the boys yelled out, grinning widely.
She admonished the kid with a look. “To teach you self-defense. There will be no ‘butt kicking’ going on here today. Right, Kenny?”
Her student was suitably shame-faced. “Right, Ms. G.”
Reed hid a smile. Man, he was totally digging the stern teacher thing she had going on. It reminded him of the crush he’d had on Mrs. Franklin, his ninth grade geography teacher. Holy hell, that woman’s ass had been out of this world. He’d spent half his high school career admiring it, which probably contributed to the pathetically bad grades he’d brought home with every report card.
“Reed used to be a professional mixed martial arts fighter,” Darcy informed the kids.
Several of the girls gasped, while all the guys looked thrilled. A skinny arm shot up in the air, belonging to an African-American boy with wild curly hair. He looked considerably younger than the others, and Reed wondered if he’d somehow wandered into the gym by accident.
But Darcy evidently knew him, because she smiled fondly at the boy and said, “Yes, Devon?”
“Did you ever knock somebody out?” the kid demanded.
Reed grinned despite himself. “Once or twice,” he said vaguely.