Summary: Riley gets a little carried away with self-defense training and does some damage to her fiancé before the costume ball.
Riley watched as Olivia attacked Liam, smashing her fist down towards his head. He blocked and grabbed her wrist, taking control, and then turned with precision and grace to pull her halfway to the ground before delivering a roundhouse kick that stopped inches in front of her face. The others clapped as Liam and Olivia shook hands and Mara explained the move once more.
Then it was her turn to try.
Maxwell circled her like a shark, bouncing lightly on his toes, a massive grin on his face. She mirrored his stance and movements, giggling. He darted a hand out to tap her on the shoulder.
“Gotcha!” he exclaimed.
“Oh no you don’t,” she warned as she reached out to tap him back, but he spun backwards out of her reach with a flourish. She tried to move towards him to get him back, but as soon as she was within range, he was tapping her shoulder again.
Riley scowled, her competitive nature fully taking over. “You’re going to regret that,” she warned, lunging at him again. He raised his arm and swung it down at her head.
Oh right, she thought, the drill…
Instinctively she blocked his strike above her head, then froze trying to remember the next step. “Then you grab…” Maxwell whispered, trying to help. She glared at him and grabbed his wrist, turning away from him to mime breaking his elbow over her shoulder. “Good job!” he said as she turned again, locking his arm to force him to fold in half at the waist, and then finished with a graceful, controlled roundhouse kick, aiming a few inches in front of his face like Liam had demonstrated.
Except maybe not entirely controlled…
She winced as she felt her foot connect with Maxwell’s face. “Ohmygod!” she shrieked as he backed away from her, his hands cupped over his face.
“OhmygodMaxwellareyouOKI’msosorryohmygodohmygod…”
“My face!” he cried, his voice cracking, his hands still covering his mouth. “You kicked me in my beautiful face!”
Liam and Hana rushed to his side but he waved them off, still hiding his face from them. Olivia and Drake looked away, trying their best not to laugh.
“Max I am so sorry, I’m an idiot, I didn’t mean to – agh!” He moved his hand away from his mouth, the sight of the blood pouring from his lip making Riley gasp in surprise.
“It’s bad? Oh god, how bad is it?” He touched his swollen lip tenderly, his fingers coming away bright red with fresh blood. He squeaked in horror.
“I’ll get some ice,” Liam offered, rushing off. Riley couldn’t help but notice him biting back his own amused smile as he left the room. Hana disappeared into the change room adjacent to the gym and returned with a damp towel.
Dabbing the towel at his lip, Riley felt like she was going to die of embarrassment. “I am so sorry, Maxwell. I completely understand if you want to ship me back to New York and forget that you ever met me.”
Maxwell pouted, his fat bottom lip making him look all the more tragic. “I’m OK. I think. Am I OK? Is it horrible?”
“It’s not horrible,” she assured him, wiping away more fresh blood as Liam handed Maxwell an ice pack. “Mouth wounds bleed a lot, is all. Just uh…maybe hold a drink in front of your face at the ball?”
“Lord Maxwell,” Mara interjected, her tone sharp and annoyed. “I would suggest in the future you protect your face during both training and an attack situation. The rest of us are moving on. Please try not to waste this opportunity to better yourself.” She turned back to the others as Riley mouthed another “I’m so sorry” and lovingly held the ice to his face.
Once the impromptu training session had wrapped up, Maxwell held Riley back from the others, ice still held to his lip. “Hey, we’ve got a little longer, don’t we? I hate that you missed half of the training because of me.”
“Because of you?” Riley scoffed. “I’m the one who kicked you in the face, for which I am so, so, eternally…”
“…sorry, I know. I got that.” He smiled warmly at her, finally setting down the ice. The bleeding had stopped and swelling had shrunk significantly. Other than a narrow cut through his lip, a little extra fullness and kissability was the only evidence of his injury.
“I just feel like a monster,” she sighed, wrapping him in a hug. “How can I ever make it up to you?”
“Weeeeell…” he said, his eyes mischievous. Without warning he moved his leg behind hers and swept it out from under her, coming down on top of her on the mats with his arms planted on either side of her face. “I have more than a few ideas.”
Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, staring up into his twinkling eyes just inches from her own, his warm, firm body pinning her down. “Well then let’s get you out of that squid suit and get started.”