The Sunshine Chronicles: Forgotten Flare by Leign Kelsey

Author:Leign, Kelsey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-08T00:00:00+00:00

We went until Kyler made me tap out.

Not because he won. No.

Because I was exhausted from holding him in the locks and chokes until he tapped out. He was fuming by the end. He thought he would teach me something, but all I learned was how stubborn he was. He never tapped out right away. No matter how many times I confidently told him to. He always struggled to get out of my hold for several seconds before finally tapping out.

All the moves he knew were basic and first-level for me. It was easy to break his hold and avoid his attempts at locks. He almost had me a couple of times, but if I made a little squeaking noise like I was in pain, his grip faltered. I may or may not have taken advantage of that.

Turns out he had a weakness for someone in pain.

I had no such mercy. He would grunt and yell because he was frustrated, but it didn’t affect me. I thought he was letting me win after the second round, but he came out of that hold with rage seeping off him. It was slightly terrifying.

For the last one, I ended up having him in a straight ankle lock, and he tried for a whole minute to escape while I just calmly kept repeating through my strained voice, “Just tap out.”

When he didn’t, I twisted his foot a little to make it more painful and impossible for him to move in that position without injuring himself. He growled and tapped the mat so hard I thought he punched a hole in it.

He’d been pacing the mat for several minutes now after I told him I was done. I was leaning against the wall at the edge of the mat. I didn’t understand why he was so upset. It was just sparring. What a sore loser.

He should have been exhausted, too. We’d been at it for almost two hours, but he never seemed to run out of breath. He always jumped right up, grabbed a drink of water, and was ready to go again.

He stopped pacing and looked at me with his brow scrunched. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

The answer seemed obvious, so I stared at him and opened my arms to gesture at the gym around us.

He shook his head and stalked toward me, stopping inches from me. He searched my eyes as he said, “I know your coach, remember? Rifner can only teach you so much.”

I cocked my brow at him. “I don’t know who Rifner is, but he’s not my coach.”

Kyler’s brows scrunched together again. “He owns this place.”

“Okay? And? There’s more than one coach here.” Maybe where he’s from—we’re from—there’s only one instructor.

He squinted at me. “What’s your coach’s name?” The little space between us shrank even more as he leaned in to hear my answer. I had to look up at him now. I debated not telling him, but there was no point.

“Tom.” The twins’ adoptive dad had mentioned in passing one day that he taught jiu-jitsu.

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