Nick’s arm comes around me, his body becoming a shield. I can feel the tension radiating off him. This is his enforcer energy—the same thing that made him legendary on the ice.
“Stay close,” he mutters in my ear. “Don’t let go of me.”
We push forward. A photographer shoves a camera in my face—so close that I can smell his coffee breath. Nick’s free hand comes up, not touching but creating space.
“Back. The. Fuck. Up.” His voice is deadly.
The guy stumbles backward.
Someone grabs my arm from behind, trying to stop me, to separate us.
That’s when instinct kicks in.
I spin, using the momentum to break his grip, and in one fluid motion, I palm-strike him in the chest. He flies backward, his ass landing on the pavement.
“Don’t touch me without permission,” I warn.
The crowd of photographers goes silent for a second.
Nick stares at me, mouth open. “Are you the Karate Kid?”
“I need my keys,” I say, but my hands are shaking now, adrenaline making them tremble. “I need?—”
They slip from my fingers.
“I got it,” Nick says, scooping them up, still looking at me with something like awe. He uses his body to create a barrier.
Finally, we’re inside, and we both lean against the door, breathing hard.
“Are you okay?” Nick immediately starts checking me over. “Your hand?—”
“I’m fine,” I say, though my whole body is shaking now.
“You just … you laid that big dude out flat.”
The adrenaline is fading, leaving me shaky. “Yeah, and I’ll do it again.”
“He was two hundred fifty pounds minimum. Nearly three times bigger than you. Where the hell did that come from?”
Despite everything, I laugh. “I’m a black belt in karate. Have been since I was sixteen.”
“You’re what?” He’s confused. It’s cute.
“I was a very paranoid kid. Ask Autumn and Blaire. I’m usually very hyperaware of my surroundings, and I was afraid of being kidnapped because I was a cute kid. So, I begged my mom to put me in karate so I could learn self-defense. Also, I played roller derby for about a decade.” I flex my arm. “These guns aren’t just for show.”
Nick stares at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “Roller derby?”
“Oh yeah. They called me Red Menace.”
“Of course they did.” He starts laughing—a real belly laugh. “My girlfriend just knocked a photographer on his ass.”
“Hegrabbedme. Anyone touches me without consent, they get dropped.”
“That was”—he pulls me against him—“the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Really?”
“You went full-on ninja. That palm-strike was perfect.”
