"So you decided to come back," he said lightly. She nodded her head once as she zipped herself into her jacket and grabbed her bag.
"I did," she said finally. "I figured that if the owner himself would come all the way out to Bloomfield to apologize, I could at least give this place another chance." She offered him a half-smile and followed him toward the door.
"Well, I'm glad you came back," he replied. "You've got too much talent to waste, anyway. You ever thought about sparring? Competing?"
She looked shocked. "Me?" she said, gesturing to herself. "Ah, no. Not really my thing."
"No?" Heath said. "That's a shame. You could really do some damage in the women's MMA leagues."
She smirked and shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm just in it for the fitness."
"I can tell you've had some training before," Heath said, leaning against the door and folding his arms. "You ever take lessons or something?"
"I had a trainer," she said, her voice coming out softer. She glanced away. "In New York. Where I'm from. But I moved here with my family last year. So since I've been here, I haven't had any training."
"I'll spar with you," Heath offered with a shrug. "If you want. I'm thinking about putting on a women's self-defense course. You could be my guinea pig. Maybe even my assistant."
"That's nice of you to want to do that for women," she said. "But, um…no, thanks."
He didn't press the issue, but he noticed the way she couldn't look him in the eye and how she was almost mumbling. Something was definitely up with her, but now was certainly not the time or place to try to figure it out.
He pushed open the door for her, following her out into the cold night, and pulled the door shut behind him, locking it firmly before sliding the gate across to further discourage any break-ins. He glanced over his shoulder at her, noting with curiosity that she seemed to be waiting for him. He finished locking the gate and turned to face her.
"How you gettin' home?" he asked. He was planning to take the subway himself, and was about to offer to see her home. Mom would have turned in her grave if she knew he'd let a young lady walk home all by herself late at night.
She pointed over her shoulder to a car across the street with the headlights on. "That's Bunz," she replied. "She'll take me home."
Heath lifted a hand vaguely in the direction of the car. It was too dark to really see anything, but a moment later he saw the window roll down and a hand stick out, waving a greeting back to him. He nodded at Drew, preparing to turn but something in her face stopped him.
"I want to say thank you," she said in a rush. "For—for sticking up for me when those guys ran up on me. For trying to help me out. I'm sorry I brushed you off like that. And…and going out of your way to come to the café. All that was…was really nice of you. And I just want to say thanks."
He was surprised and a little embarrassed. It made him uncomfortable to hear his actions verbally laid out like that when he hadn't done anything for any reason other than to try and be a good person.
"No trouble," he said, taking his turn to avert his eyes and lower his voice. "I just don't like shit like that, is all."
He glanced at her, and for the first time, her lips pulled into a full, if close-lipped, smile. "Well…it was really nice of you," she repeated.
He nodded. "Get home safe," he said lightly. "Your girl is waitin' on you. I'll see you around."
"Good night," she replied, and as he headed off, he glanced back to see she'd made it across the street all right and was safely in her friend's car.
His mind was spinning as he hopped on the train. He couldn't figure her out. Most women he could peg pretty easily within the first few minutes of conversation, but Drew was a complete enigma to him. He was genuinely surprised at her thanking him when he'd assumed all he'd managed to do was annoy her. He was also still puzzled by her reaction to him tapping her, her unwillingness to spar with him…
He shook his head. He was probably being uncharacteristically analytical. Maybe she was just jumpy, and maybe she was intimidated at the thought of sparring with a guy.
Either way, he hoped for the opportunity to find out.
***
Drew came to the gym earlier the following night, about seven-thirty. He was checking over the dumbbells and kettle-bells by the punching bags and glanced up at her as she walked over. She gave him a half-smile as she dropped her bag on the ground and stretched her arms. He nodded in reply and turned back to his inventory list as she set to work on the bag.
After a few moments, he glanced over at her, studying her form for a moment. Now that she wasn't drowning in oversized clothing, he could study her better and critique her form. Her previous training was evident, but it was also evident that she'd been away from it for a while. She wasn't quite as sharp as she should be, but her punches were as hard as ever.