Dances with Monsters(29)

As he glanced over his notes and rough outline of the agenda, he was pleased; it was taking shape, aligning with his original vision, and he'd have plenty of great things to share with the participants. His eyes shifted over to the calendar. He needed to set a date, but it obviously needed to be after Smackdown. He penciled in a few tentative dates toward the end of April into early May, satisfied that he'd have plenty of time to iron out all the details and get a solid agenda together.

He yawned again and reached for his bottle of water, taking a healthy pull as he glanced at the clock. He started in surprise. He hadn't realized working on the agenda for the self-defense course had taken as long as it had; it was nearly closing time.

At that moment, as if reading his mind, Rex stuck his head in the office. "Closin' time, boss," he announced. "Got all the equipment sanitized, most of the clients have left. All except Carnevale." Ever since Drew had corrected him, he made a point to exaggerate the pronunciation of her name.

Heath's ears perked up. "She came tonight?"

Rex shrugged. "As always. That surprise you?" His eyes narrowed as he examined Heath's face. "Everything cool after the bar?"

Rex and Jameson had both left early, so they hadn't witnessed the scene outside the bar. Heath averted his eyes and rose from his desk, gathering his jacket, gym bag, keys and water bottle. He shrugged. "It was fine."

"C'mon, man," Rex said, standing to the side to let Heath pass through the door. "What happened? I can tell something's up."

Heath hesitated. He didn't want to tell Rex too much; whatever was going on with Drew wasn't anyone's business but hers and he didn't want to give his brash friend any fodder to potentially torture her with. Rex had a habit of thinking he was funny when no one else did.

"Some drunk guys gave her a hard time," Heath said lightly. "She's fine though."

"Oh, save the day, did you?" Rex chortled as they headed into the gym.

"Not at all," Heath replied. "Anyway, shut up about it in front of her."

Rex just shook his head and laughed. "Everything look good, man?" he asked, sweeping his arm over the expanse of the gym. Heath knew what he was really asking was if he could go home.

Heath glanced around then waved him off. "Yeah. Go home."

As Rex left, Heath crossed the gym, rounding the corner of the ring in the middle of the room. He could hear the steady thump of Drew's fists on the bag. He had spent quite a bit of time since Saturday feeling confused; his interest was more than piqued by the way she'd reacted to the drunk guys outside the bar. He knew he had witnessed her having some sort of anxiety attack, and it reminded him of the Marines he'd fought beside—to him, all signs pointed to her suffering from PTSD. But what the PTSD could be a result of, he had no idea. He wanted to know, but he was also a huge fan of people minding their own business. If Drew wanted him to know…she'd let him know.

As he came upon her, he noticed that she was beating the bag with new intensity, her arms quivering with fatigue. Her sharp exhales of breath had turned to grunts. She was overdoing it and risking injury. He leaned into her vision like he always did, to not startle her as much. Her eyes immediately shifted to him, and he saw fire and anger snapping in the deep, chocolate brown depths. She dropped her arms, still staring into his eyes and stood still, her chest heaving.

He swallowed, unsure of what to say. He hadn't seen her look like this before. Finally, he cleared his throat. "You all right?"

Abruptly, she yanked her headphones off her head and dropped her mitts to the ground. "Fine."

Heath didn't know everything there was to know about women, but what little he did know told him that she was actually completely opposite of the answer she'd supplied. He sensed that rebutting her or probing further would likely make things worse, so he left it alone.

"Hey," he said, switching gears. She glanced up at him, one of her brows raised questioningly. Curiosity pushed the fire out of her eyes and he was glad to see it. "I need your help."

"My help?" she repeated, the other brow joining the first. "What could you possibly need my help with?"

"Well, it's something you already shot me down for," he said, folding his arms. "I finally have a plan worked out for the women's self-defense course. Now that you know I'm not a total piece of shit, maybe you'll be willing to help me work the moves out."

She shrugged. "Why can't you use Rex or Jameson or someone?"

"I need a female body," he replied bluntly. A second later, he heard in his head how it must have sounded and shook his head as Drew hid a grin. "Not like that, smart ass. The course is designed for women; I need to make sure that it works with a woman's body, that the moves aren't too advanced for beginners and what not." He saw her hesitation. "What's wrong?"