KATLYN
Three days since that night where he challenged me and three consecutive mornings of him handing my arse back to me with a grin which I wanted to wipe off his chiseled beautiful face. If I say I was angry, it’d be a lie. I was fûcking furious, I was frustrated and most of all I had a bruised ego that was manifesting itself in all the things I was doing to get back at him.
I knew it was petty to do the amateur s**t I was doing, but I couldn’t get past the fact that I couldn’t best him in our morning sparring sessions. It was like I hadn’t spent more than half of my life in training with Theo on how to attack and defend myself. Like I hadn’t killed and manhandled men double my size. Like I was a dainty heroine from eighties that didn’t know how to stand up straight much less fight.
