Page 8 of Phoenix's Redemption

I grunted, muscles burning. She wasn't just here to mold me into a better fighter. She was here to shatter any doubts about her capability, and damn if Sophie wasn't doing a good job of it.

"Keep your wrist straight," she instructed, her focus on the wrap concealing the ache from my injury. "Don't favor it."

"I’m not trying to." My frustration wasn't aimed at her. It was directed at the weakness I felt. If I got careless, an opponent in the ring could exploit it.

"No one's going to go easy on you because of an injury." Her tone was matter-of-fact. Not one ounce of pity detected.

Could she read my mind, too? I finished the last rep, slamming the weights down with a clang that echoed off the walls.

She didn't flinch. Instead, she gave a nod, as if acknowledging a point scored in a match only she understood. We moved onto sparring, where the real test began. Sophie grabbed another fighter from the gym to be my partner.

"Watch your footing," she called out as I dodged a swift jab. "You're telegraphing your kicks."

"Easy for you to say,” I panted, trying to keep up with my opponent’s pace. The week spent nursing my wrist slowed me down. Now I’d have to work on catching up.

"Nothing worth having comes easy.”

Sophie wasn’t lying. I wanted her. She was worth every risk, every challenge, and I hadn’t even kissed her.

The session wore on, and with each passing minute, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was still missing something crucial about Sophie. It was hidden behind her cool, confidentpoise. I had to know the secrets behind those brown eyes, even as another part of me warned to keep my distance.

“Time.” She announced the end of the sparring. She gave a thankful nod to my opponent as he left to hit the showers. “Let's see if you can put your energy into your footwork instead." Her eyes sparkled with a challenge.

We moved through the drills. She timed me on her smartwatch while I beelined through a series of cones set up on the gym floor. "Stay light on your feet, Liam. Or do they not teach that one in finishing school?"

"Please, I graduated with advanced honors from the school of hard knocks."

She scoffed at my corny line. "Advanced honors? Is that even a thing?" She paused her smartwatch, mercifully giving me a breather. "What made you step into the ring in the first place?"

I hesitated, unsure if I wanted the conversation to get heavy after we were having fun. "My mother was a real fighter. She worked three jobs while raising my hard-headed ass as a single parent. Then she got sick. I had to help out.” I lowered my head, regret making my shoulders heavy. “The streets gave me what I needed at the time.”

Given her background as a cop, I expected full on judgment, and wouldn’t blame her one bit if she decided to chew me out. Surprisingly, Sophie’s face was neutral as she looked at me. “What got you off the streets?”

“The army.” My voice softened as I traced the outline of a scar on my knuckle. "And MMA. I took it up when I was off-duty. It was a way to channel the anger. I had to get everything out to make sense, you know? It gave me a reason to fight for something other than just getting through the day."

She listened. "I get it. I’m glad you turned your life around early. Some people wait until it’s too late, or they don’t even bother.”

Yeah, like Jack.The unspoken reply formed in my mind. I wanted to talk about something else, anything besides the man I used to think of like an older brother. “Look at me now.” I changed the subject. “I’m learning from one of the best trainers. She’s got a kickass background cleaning up the streets.”

“You tried it.” She put her hand on a hip, unbothered by my deflection. "Fake flattery will get you nowhere."

“Who said it was fake? I could be impressed by you.”

She gave my words the brush off. "Alright, enough heart-to-heart. Let's get back to it."

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the image of her smile, the way her laughter filled the empty spaces within me. Sophie Brooks had slipped through my defenses, making me find what I thought I'd lost long ago.

This time, I wanted to keep it. And her.

Chapter Four

SOPHIE

Aweek slipped by. I began to feel like I had an effective system for getting Liam into fighting form after his injury.

Today at the gym, I pulled out the resistance bands. They were a far cry from the boulder-size free weights Liam favored.

"Seriously?" He eyed the bands as if they were hissing snakes. "I need real weight, Sophie."