Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
He barely dodged it.
Kai went low again. Then high. Then a knife strike. Then a doozy of a double.
Breck only blocked half.
Kai pulled back. “You have to concentrate.”
“I am,” he snapped. Anger flared. He felt flustered. More people glanced his way. God fucking damn it. He looked like an idiot.
Jegs laughed to his right. “Come on, B. You’re better than that.”
Breck shot him a glower. Go fuck yourself.
Charlie chuckled. “The king is pissed.”
Breck glared at him, too, then turned back to Kai. The guy was eyeing him as if making mental notes.
Kai’s lips curved subtly. “They call you king?”
Fuck. Breck did not want to have this conversation with him. Anyone else? Yeah, bring it on. But not this man. Around him, Breck didn’t feel like a king. More like a jester.
Which was bullshit. He’d worked his ass off to get where he was, busted his balls to achieve the status he enjoyed. No one, no matter how hot he found them to be, would ever rob him of that pride.
It was his.
Squaring his shoulders, he lifted his chin. “Yeah. They do. King of the Court. Because I bring home the gold.”
Speaking of which, the season’s practice kicked off next week.
Kai studied him, then canted his head. “I see.” He eased back into position. “You must be good.”
Breck grunted. “Try great.” He resumed his stance as well.
“And humble,” Kai chuckled. He raised his fists.
His first strike came low.
Breck deflected it.
Kai dealt another, high.
Breck threw up a face block, barely dodging it.
A double came next, for his solar plexus.
He blocked the first, but Kai’s second sailed past—stopping just millimeters from the top of his abs.
Breck hissed out an oath.
Kai eased back. “Again.”
And so it continued for another ten minutes.
Breck could feel his skin flushing. The sweat on his brow. His heartbeat racing. But he was improving, the movements coming more naturally.
Until Kai dished an exceptionally wicked combination.
Knocked from his zone, Breck barked a curse and stumbled backward.
Kai fisted his dobok and yanked him forward. “Easy, jeja.”
Breck stiffened. Once more, they were just inches apart. His heart stuttered as his stomach clenched. “Jeja?” he rasped.
Kai’s gaze dropped to his mouth. “It means pupil,” he murmured. His eyes rose back up. Locked with Breck’s. His lips curved wryly. “Here, you are a beginner. Not a king.”
Breck stared at him. Kai just body-checked him—verbally.
Glaring, he shoved away. “Wrong. I’m always king. Your dojang doesn’t change that.”
All around, brows shot high.
Fucking fantastic.
Now he looked like an arrogant hothead.
In contrast, Kai’s demeanor remained frustratingly calm. Just that glint in his eyes as he lifted a questioning brow.
Breck grit his teeth.
“Time’s up.” Kai bent at the waist.
Breck scowled but returned the gesture.
Kai straightened and turned to the class. “Practice is over. Bow to your partners, then go take notes.” He dipped at the waist again. “Hae cho.” The students reciprocated, some of them glancing Breck’s way.
Ugh. Breck lifted his chin and averted his gaze. Kai slid him one last look, then turned and headed off the mat, leaving him in the aftermath of… whatever that had been.
Charlie and Jegs walked over.
“That was awesome.” Jegs punched the air.
Charlie chuckled. “Still doing it wrong.”
“I am not.” Jegs threw a double next.
“Look at that form.” Charlie tsked. “Jackie’s shakin’ his head.”
“In awe.” Jegs cut a hand knife strike. “See that shit? I’m a fuckin’ natural.”
Charlie choked on a laugh.
Breck fought back a grin, his tension easing. “Clearly, you haven’t been watchin’ yourself in that mirror.”
“Pfft. Of course I have.” Jegs turned and regarded his reflection. “Lookin’ good, my brotha.” He beamed. “Keep that shit up.”
Breck rolled his eyes and headed for the locker rooms. He’d take notes when he got a notebook. Maybe. If he felt like it. This class was hardly a priority. Once the season started, it’d be even less so. Not that Taekwondo wasn’t cool. Because, admittedly, it was. The fighting techniques and ideals all badass. With a hot-as-fuck instructor to boot.
Even if he was kind of a dick.
They changed and departed the locker room.
Said dick was by the check-in counter.
Breck frowned, annoyed that he couldn’t stop staring. That he couldn’t keep his eyes off that exasperating man.
He headed toward the exit with his buddies. Kai glanced their way.
“An nyoung gae sae yo, Grandmaster,” Jegs rattled off with a grin.
Kai stilled, then crossed his arms and smiled. “An nyoung, Jegs. See you Friday.”
Breck and Charlie traded looks. What the hell? They eyed their friend.
“What?” Jegs shrugged. “Means goodbye. I looked it up.”
Charlie barked out a laugh. “You brown-nosin’ loser.”
Kai’s lips twitched. “An nyoung, Charlie. An nyoung, Breck.”
Breck hesitated, not sure exactly how to respond in this scenario.
Kai held his eyes—and damn it if that gaze didn’t hold him captive.
He swallowed, then cleared his throat, his heartbeat skipping.
Kai quirked a smile. “Go practice, jeja.”
Breck blinked. Then stiffened.
What was that supposed to mean? That he sucked or some shit?