Mr. K counted, "One, two, three, four...." all the way to ten. Hunter pushed himself up, but stumbled back to the ground. "Knockout!" Mr. K shouted, then added, "Rats. I rooted for the wrong guy."
Luke's face split into a huge grin, full of cocky arrogance, and he raised his fist in the air like Rocky.
Lucy clapped and whistled. "And the winner is... Luke Rivera." Hey, it's a win-win. My brother or my boyfriend. Well, wait, not boyfriend per se... ah crap.
Hunter stood—without any trouble at all, Lucy noticed—and shook hands with Luke. "Good fight, bro."
Luke grasped his hand. "Same here, man. You sure know how to move. I needed that. Thanks."
Neither was too worse for the wear, though both had their fair share of bruises. A dark purple circle had already formed on Hunter's jaw, and, as Lucy suspected, this only added to his hotness. She shook her head. What is wrong with me? And speaking of, what's the deal with Hunter? He didn't have to take that abuse. He could have won. So why'd he let Luke kick his butt?
Lucy stood and walked over to the guys. "I want in."
"What?" Luke frowned. "You serious?"
"Yeah, I need the exercise." She stretched and flexed to prove her point.
"You're still healing, though."
"So are you. I'll be okay."
Luke cocked his head, then shrugged. "I suppose we could." He lifted his fists.
Lucy laughed and held up her hands in mock surrender. "No. There's no way I'm facing the champion. I'm not that okay."
"Whatever you say, Sis." He moved aside and bowed dramatically to Hunter. "She's all yours. Don't bruise her, or I'll whoop your ass again."
Hunter shook his head. "My father taught me never to hit a lady."
Lucy stuck her tongue out and danced around him, throwing mock punches. "Come on. Or did your father also teach you to be a spineless wimp?"
Luke laughed. "Don't worry, man. She's vicious. I wouldn't blame you for not fighting her."
Perfect! Her brother gave Hunter just the push he needed to fight—though it was never really a question. He wanted this as much as she did. His body relaxed as he considered his options, and Lucy couldn't help but taunt him just a bit more. "Besides, I don't fight like a lady, so don't worry about hurting me. And ignore my overprotective brother. I'm not a banana. I don't bruise as easily as some."
His eyes turned into slits, and Lucy knew she had him. "You asked for it," he said in a low voice, and then sprang at her.
Lucy swayed side-to-side, dodging the blows with minimal effort. "You're not even trying. This is sad."
Hunter moved fast but without the same passion that he had with Luke—or maybe with a different kind of passion. He swung at her again, an open-palmed smack that struck only air.
"They say the turtle wins the race, but you haven't even made it to the event yet."
Hunter harrumphed and muttered something about stubborn women, then finally whipped a series of blows at her in quick succession.
His torso gave away each move, and her muscles responded reflexively, blocking easily as he attacked. A trickle of sweat ran down Hunter's chest, and Lucy couldn't keep her eyes off of it.
"You're pretty good," he said with a mischievous grin.
"Thanks."
"I wonder what else those hands are good for?"
Just what she'd been thinking about his hands. She blushed, then scowled at herself for being so silly.
Before she could retort, her brother butted in. "Watch it. Or it'll be my hands you'll be worried about."
Oh, Luke, stay out of this. I can take care of myself. "My hands are skilled at many things. Not the least of which is putting cocky boys in their place."
Another jab. "That may be, but I'm no boy. Perhaps you need to be reminded of that." He kicked, and she dodged, but not fast enough. His foot grazed her shoulder.
Crap. Damn him for getting me all flustered. Focus, Luce. She just had to concentrate and be patient. Hmm... that's a thought.
She relaxed, and breathed in to steady herself, just as she did while meditating. Only this time, instead of focusing inward, she focused on Hunter.
Her energy connected to his, and she felt his every movement, every breath, every flex of muscle.
His right hand flicked back—his giveaway. No one else would have noticed it, but she had caught it while he fought Luke.
She moved a fraction of a second before he punched, sliding past his hand. She used his momentum against him, wrapping her leg around his and tripping him, and used her arm as leverage to throw him to the ground. Lucy dropped onto him and pinned his chest with her knees close to his throat.
Her ponytail fell against his cheek as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I could have crushed your windpipe."
She felt his heat against her body, his heart beating so close to hers, the mint on this breath that he must have chewed that morning. They both breathed hard, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.
Hunter's green eyes were wide, taking in everything. "Yeah, I think we have a technical knockout here. Luke, your sister pretended to kill me."