"The basics of self-defense are important for getting yourself out of trouble, not into it," he replies.
"So you won't show me?"
"Not until you tell me why."
I've never had to answer to anyone in my life, even my father. There's no way I'm answering to him. "Never mind. One of the other guys will show me."
Captain Mathis seems to debate silently, studying me. I'm not about to crack and tell him. As if sensing so, he relents. He steps close enough for me to feel his body heat and takes my wrist.
"I recommend not punching. You're just as likely to hurt yourself as someone else," he starts. "But if you insist, keep your wrist braced." He straightens mine and places his hand around it. "Completely straight. Make a tight fist."
I do.
"Thumb here. You want to hit with the first two knuckles." He taps the two he means.
I watch carefully, trying to take in everything from how it looks to how it feels.
"So I have to have a straight shot basically," I murmur. It seems more complicated than I thought. "You've hit real people?"
"Yeah." He meets my gaze. "It's not pretty, Katya. You can shatter your wrist or break a finger if you do it wrong."
Ugh.
"You're better off learning some solid self-defense skills."
"What if something escalates?" I ask. "Friendly chat one minute then everything explodes."
Holding my closed fist in both of his, he's gazing at me.
Heat flutters through me once more, and I realize what I've said. Or maybe, how it could be taken, if he's remotely affected by me the same way I am by him.
Which he can't be, because he'd have to be human first to have emotions.
"There's usually something to spark it," he responds quietly. "Explosions don't just happen."
What the hell are we talking about?
I'm not sure, but my stomach is turning over and my pulse is racing beneath his direct gaze. Uncertain how to respond, I tug my hand free and move away.
"It's getting close to breakfast, and we all need showers," I say, turning away.
Captain Mathis clasps his hands behind his back and moves towards the center of the pit.
"Fall in!" he orders.
The kids scramble into a line in front of him, panting.
"Tanner, lead them back to the barracks," he orders the tallest boy.
He walks beside the line of kids, while I trail, trying to get my head on straight once more. It doesn't help that I keep looking at his nice thighs and trying to remember when the last time I went out on a date was.