novelxo Passenger Princess: Chapter 29
‘All right, next, we’ll work on releases. There are three main versions: a wrist release, a bear hug release, and a hair release,’ Jaime says the next day, his eyes meeting mine in a mirror.
Upon waking this morning, he informed me he’d already found a dance studio to rent twenty miles away for my first official self-defense lesson. When we walked in, I felt at ease. The familiarity of a dance studio hit me with a wave of homesickness for my friends that I quickly brushed off.
Once we arrived, he wasted little time, first teaching me about different strikes and the correct way to do them, then moving on to how to be situationally aware in any situation. It’s been eye-opening and a bit frightening to realize just how unprotected I am at any given moment and how unprepared I am if something were to happen, God forbid. I won’t admit it to Jaime in this lifetime, but to some degree, he’s right: I don’t value my own safety nearly enough.
‘A bear hug sounds fun. Let’s do that first,’ I say with a smile.
For the millionth time, Jaime closes his eyes and sighs before his lips start to move quietly—a prayer of sorts.
‘Fun?‘
‘Bears are cute and cuddly. It has a fun name,’ I say with a smile. I’m only saying it to irritate him, but clearly, it’s working.
‘Fine,’ he says with a shake of his head, then moves to stand behind me and stares at me in the mirror’s reflection. ‘Okay, a man comes up behind you and grabs you; what do you do?’
I shrug casually. ‘Where’s he grabbing me?’
‘Does it matter?’ Jaime asks, confused.
‘Well, yeah. There’s a huge difference between him grabbing my hand and grabbing a handful of my boobs.’
With that, he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath like he needs to find some inner zen.
I don’t think he succeeds.
‘Fine,’ he says, arms wrapping me up in a big hug, pinning my arms to my sides. ‘He grabs you like this. What do you do?’
‘I yell for help.’
He shakes his head at me. ‘No, you don’t yell help, you—’ he starts, and I cut him off.
‘Oh, yeah, you yell fire!’
He nods at me. ‘Exactly. People are more likely to come if you yell fire. Yelling for help has proven people don’t think they’ll be able to help or assume someone else will come. But let’s say there’s no one around. What do you do?’
‘Uh… kick him?’ I say, moving a foot back toward his knees.
‘Maybe that could work in some situations, but you’re pretty small, Ava.’
I purse my lips, annoyed even though he’s not wrong; in a panic, I don’t think I’d have enough height to kick a man behind me where I’d need to in order to make any real impact.
‘Ideally, if your hands are below the attacker’s, you try and slide out,’ he says. When I try, basically lifting my feet and using my body weight and gravity, I’m able to wiggle out, even with his arms tight on me.
Jaime proceeds to show me then how to slow and injure the attacker and flee once I’m out, what to do if my arms are locked above the attacker’s hands, and how to escape to safety before we try something new.
Next, he’s in front of me, an arm’s width away, staring down at me, his chest rising and falling with the slight effort he’s been expending. In contrast, I’m already slick with sweat. Then his hand, calloused and rough and huge, wraps around my throat.
‘A man gets you here; what do you do?’
I smile. It’s not that I’m not taking this seriously that makes me smile. It’s more that taking it too seriously will be a complete system overload for me and send me into a panicked spiral I might never crawl out of. And, of course, the way he looks so freaking serious makes me want to be the complete opposite.
‘Call him daddy?’
He shakes his head at me, and my smile grows.
‘Jesus fucking Christ, Ava, please try and take this seriously.’
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It was too perfect of an opening!’ He glares, and I give in. ‘Okay, okay, no more choke me daddy jokes, promise.’
His eyes close, and he curses under his breath.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said, choke me, daddy. Now, way, way too many ideas are running through my mind.
‘Are you into that shit?’ he asks, and instantly his face goes a bit pink like he didn’t mean to say it aloud.
‘Calling men daddy? It’s not for me. Choking? I’m not sure yet. I’ve never tried it.’
His eyes go wider. ‘But you’ve called someone daddy?’ The words come so quickly, I have to assume they’re an impulse.
‘Once. It wasn’t for me. I ended up laughing the entire time, which didn’t do much for his ego.’ His jaw goes tight, and I smile. ‘Okay, fine. Choke me, Jaime.’
Something snaps in his eyes, and heat floods my belly, but all the same, without a word, he lifts his hand, wrapping my throat and staring at me.
‘If someone attacks you like this, the goal is to get their fingers off you as soon as possible. First, grab my wrist with your left hand,’ he says.
‘Like this?’ I ask, wrapping my hand around his wrist.
‘Yeah, Higher is better. With your other hand, grab my fingers that are on your throat.
‘Grab your fingers?’
“Yes.’
I grab them with my free hand, feeling a bit silly. If someone is choking me, shouldn’t I try and push him away?
‘Good, good. Pushing away fucks with angles and weight distribution, so you have to go a bit against instinct,’ he explains. ‘Now you want to grab those fingers tight, squeeze them together. It’ll hurt him and mess with his grip.’ I squeeze a bit, feeling the fingers lifting as I do. ‘You grab it like that, peel back, and push. Yeah, yeah,’ he says, as I remove his fingers from my neck. ‘Then push, shove my elbow into my side.’ I do it slowly, a bit confused by the instructions, making sure I get it right. ‘Then push those fingers back toward his wrist. Ideally, you do it fast, but we’re just practicing.’
‘Got it,’
‘Then you’re going to push back and break my fingers.’ My eyes go wide. ‘Not literally, not right now, at least. Now, if you do this, with the elbow moving back, the fingers breaking, he’s going to go down. Then you knee him in the face, and you run, Ava. Run and scream.”
‘Got it. That I can do,’ I say.
‘All right, again,’ he says before he makes me run through it a few more times until I feel like I understand the move and all of the variations of it.
‘Okay, now we’re going to run through some scenarios,’ Jaime says an hour or so later.
‘What?’
But instead of responding, Jaime goes right into it, grabbing me by my ponytail, which he told me is the most dangerous hairstyle for a woman, and expecting me to get out of it. We fight, and I use the moves he taught me, but this time, it’s clear he’s not playing or in teaching mode—this time, I have to actually fight to make the moves he showed me before he approves, and we move into a wrist release and then a bear hug. I’m panting and sweating by the time I get out of his second bear hug move, and then I trip, falling to the ground and catching myself on my hands.
And then he’s on top of me, rolling me over until I’m pinned beneath his body.
This, attached to the panicky adrenaline from trying to escape this ‘attacker’ over and over, should spike something in me: fear and panic.
But it does the exact opposite, flooding me with lust that I can’t tamp down. My chest is heaving, and so is his as he looms over me.
I wait for his instruction, but it doesn’t come, instead, he just continues to hover over me, eyes assessing, dozens of thoughts moving behind those eyes.
And with every other heartbeat, his gaze stops on my lips like he’s weighing the pros and cons of leaning down. It wouldn’t take much at all for his lips to be on mine, to once more experience the momentary bliss that was Jaime kissing me.
He said it was a mistake, that we shouldn’t have kissed, that it caused distractions…but I don’t care. I don’t care if it makes me lose the crown or fucks up this entire tour.
I want Jaime Wilde in a way that supersedes every bit of logic.
‘Kiss me,’ I whisper without really thinking.
‘What?’
‘Kiss me,’ I repeat.
‘Ava—’
‘Say fuck it and kiss me, Jaime. I’m so into you, I can barely breathe even though I know you’re the one person I shouldn’t be thinking about.’
‘Ava—’
‘I know it’s crazy, but you know there’s something there. Why else would you spend your entire day off renting out a studio to teach me this? Touching me all day, driving me insane.’ His pupils flare with lust, and I see it there: a silent confession. “That kiss wasn’t a mistake, and you know it. Admit you like me.” Time passes like molasses as I wait for his response.
‘I like you enough to not want something bad to happen to you. I like you enough to want to keep you safe beyond it being my job. But I also like you enough to not want to fuck this opportunity up for you and to know we can’t act on whatever chemistry is between us.’
Hope and excitement bloom in my chest. ‘We could, you know,’ I whisper, holding his eyes in the mirror. I expect him to play dumb, but instead, he shakes his head, holding my gaze all the same.
‘The other day proved we can’t. You’re my charge, and I need to stay focused. And you’re supposed to stay single.’
‘Oh, sweet boy,’ I say, reaching up and patting him on the cheek, then leaving it there, letting my thumb brush his full bottom lip. It should be illegal for a man to have such perfect lips.
‘What are they going to do, take my crown? The best part about me and about this entire gig is I’m not in it for the crown or the title. I was in it to help my friends, and now I’m sticking it out for the adventure and because I’m stubborn.’ I let time pass—moments or maybe hours. I’m unsure how long before I whisper it. ‘Kiss me, Jaime.’
‘Ava,’ he whispers, but he doesn’t say no and doesn’t back away.
‘You said you’re the one who kisses me every single time. So do it.’
He seems to contemplate my words, then slowly, so fucking slowly I think I’m hallucinating it, one hand moves, rough callouses scraping up the delicate skin of my neck until he’s cupping my jaw and moving down toward me, his lips barely grazing mine.
Then a knock comes on the door, his head jerking up. The moment is broken before he moves. He stands quickly and offers me a hand to help me up.
‘Time’s up,’ he says.