This time, Danny didn’t keep me waiting long. It wasn’t even five in the morning when my cell phone beeped. Half-asleep, I reached for it and read the text:

Good morning! Want to come with me to the old mill around the corner from my place on Saturday morning?

I’d like to introduce you to a lady that has played a very important role in my life.

I briefly considered waiting a while to answer, so as not to seem desperate, but my impatience won out.

I’d love to! I’m deeply honored to have an opportunity to meet a member of your royal court. Though it does seem a bit unusual that this fair maiden lives in a mill…

Should I get myself a ballgown and practice my curtsies?

Danny apparently had less difficulty with patience. His response didn’t come until nearly two hours later, as I was walking up the stairs to the Civil Engineering Office.

I recommend jeans and sneakers. This is less about blue blood, more about hay and horsehair. Bring your dog, she’ll like it there.

I’ll pick you up at 10 AM.

 

The week dragged on forever. When Saturday finally rolled around and I rushed down to the parking lot with Leika, Danny was already there, waiting, leaning against his gleaming BMW, arms folded like always. Though it was still early in the year, the weather was warm and the sun shining brightly.

Danny stepped forward and kissed me on the lips. It was just a quick kiss, but the air around us still seemed to vibrate. Yet again, I had to remind myself to breathe.

A growl at my side stole my attention. In Leika’s eyes, this stranger had definitely crossed a line. She pawed the ground, ready to protect me if necessary.

Danny smiled. “Well, that’s a wonderful greeting.”

“Sorry,” I said. “She has some problems. Before I got her, she’d been living on the street, and she went through a lot. Some people really abused her—beat her, even shot her with a shotgun. Give her time. She’ll warm up to you eventually.”

Danny regarded her thoughtfully, his eyes gentle, almost tender. “No problem,” he said. “We’ll get there. I understand what abuse is like. She and I will be best friends someday.” He opened the back door of the BMW. “You better be the one to invite her in for now. I brought her something, too, but we’ll do that later. I don’t want her to feel like I’m hassling her.”

Leaving my dog alone was definitely the best way to win her trust. Most people immediately tried to pet her, to appease their own need for physical closeness, and that ruined everything from the beginning.

“You want her to just get in?” I asked. “Without a blanket?”

“Of course.” He looked a little confused. Seeing my hesitant expression, he added, “I don’t know what things were like with that Alexander guy of yours, but to me, cars are functional objects, not temples of worship. They get people—and dogs—from Point A to Point B. So get her in there.”

“What if she runs around at the mill, in mud or grass or something, and then gets your car all dirty on the way back?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” He grinned then, a cocky grin. “If it’s ever too dirty for me, I’ll buy a new one.”

Suppressing my own grin, I took off Leika’s leash and gave her the sign to jump in. Some people probably found Danny pretentious, but I liked that about him. He managed to walk the fine line between arrogance and charm.

When we turned onto the highway, there was a surprising amount of traffic, like everyone in our rural area was going out to run errands at the same time.

“We don’t actually have the whole day today,” Danny said. “I have a fight this evening.”

“A fight? Kickboxing?”

“Yeah. Nothing big. Just a little competition in Feuerbach.”

Somehow, I just couldn’t reconcile the idea of Danny and martial arts. He seemed way too kind and friendly for something like that.

“Can I come?” I asked.

He looked surprised. “Sure, if you want.”

I nodded happily.

“Let’s do it, then… And, actually, you could come over next Saturday, too, if you’re free. I won’t be able to pick you up until evening, though. I’ll be out during the day.”

“Oh? Big plans?”

“I always go running in the morning, and I have a photo shoot in the afternoon. That shouldn’t take long, though.”

“I could go running with you,” I suggested.

He laughed. “I don’t think that will work.”

“Excuse me? I can run, too,” I snapped, offended.

“Okay, if you insist… Then I’ll pick you up at eight on Saturday morning, and we’ll go running together. And you can wait for me at my place afterward. Tina will be there, so you won’t get bored.”

In my head, I was jumping for joy. I’d managed to get my way again. But then something else occurred to me. “How does that even work? Doing martial arts and modeling?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know. Black eyes, knocked-out teeth…”

He laughed again, making me realize just how much I loved the sound of his laughter. I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sound. “Makeup and the right lighting can work wonders. Anyway, these fights aren’t about life and death, they’re about technique. I rarely do full-contact fights anymore.”

“Why?” I was sure the world championship certificate I’d seen at his place had said “full contact.”

“Personal reasons. Full-contact fights can get really bloody. But light contact is about points, not about knocking the other person out. There’s also semi-contact, but to me, that’s not even martial arts. You might as well just join an arts-and-crafts club.”

“So, I don’t need to prepare myself for spurting blood? Life-threatening injuries?”

He shrugged and turned onto a dirt road. “Blood—not necessarily. Injuries—sure, but you can get those in training, too.”

“You’ve never been seriously injured doing it?”

“Sure, I have. I’ve had stitches a bunch of times. Broken arm, broken collarbone, broken rib, tendon injuries… I’ve even broken the same bone three times. But that was my fault. If you’re too dumb to master a certain kick, you should definitely not try it a million times.”

“Good Lord. Riding sounds like kid stuff in comparison.”

“Well, I started when I was eleven, and I’ve been doing it three to four hours every day since then. So, considering how long it’s been, I haven’t gotten that many injuries.”

We drove past an old mill with a large, worn water wheel. A few pitiful patches of snow remained on the surrounding meadow, stubbornly resisting the sun. Danny parked the car horizontally across the grass, in front of a paddock.

“What made you decide to do martial arts in the first place?” I asked.

Danny pulled the hand brake and gave me a look I couldn’t quite identify. Was there a challenge in his eyes? Daring me to dig deeper? “I suddenly had the feeling that I needed to defend myself,” he said simply.

“Why?” I asked, holding his stare.

“We’re here,” he said, tearing his eyes away and rummaging around in his bag.

“So, if a gang attacked you today, do you think you could take them?”

“How many?” he asked, distracted.

“Hm… Let’s say five.”

“Yeah, I could handle five. Unless they had assault rifles.” He pulled a plastic baggie out of his bag. It held pieces of cheese. After climbing out of the car, he opened one of the back doors. “I’ll just say hello to your girl first, and then I’ll introduce you to Maya.”

I got out as well and watched him with my dog. He was squatting, his back to Leika, with his hand stretched toward her, the cheese sitting in his palm.

I was thrilled to see how well he knew his way around difficult dogs. He was doing exactly the right thing: making himself small in order to seem non-threatening and avoiding all eye contact, which the dog could easily mistake for a challenge. Leika ducked down, snuck up to him, but then jumped back and whined softly. Then, in one swift movement, she dashed forward and grabbed the cheese. Danny didn’t move, didn’t make the mistake many people made at that point, which was to try and touch her. Instead, he waited until Leika had retreated again, and then he slowly straightened.

“So,” he said, “from now on, we’ll do that every time we see each other. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Maya.”

I took the hand he offered me, and we walked to the nearby paddock.

Where Maya lived.

Because Maya was a pony.

A fat little pony, about four feet eight or nine, with a scraggly gray coat flecked with white. Her thick, black mane fell to either side of her stout neck. When Danny called her, she trotted over to us and blew her warm breath into my face. I didn’t think I’d ever seen such a friendly pony. There were two other animals in the paddock as well, both probably at least part Shetland. As for Maya, I had no idea what breed she might be. Maybe a Norwegian fjord horse? But she wasn’t the right color. Probably just a total mix.

Danny pointed to the other ponies. “That’s Pablo, and the bigger one there is Josto. They belong to the children’s home I was in. Maya’s mine. The girls in the home take care of her and ride her. She’s not the kind of horse you’d ride—she’s old and partly lame, and she doesn’t know a thing about dressage. But she’s perfect for little kids to trot around on.”

At some point in that explanation, he’d switched from German into English. I actually did know English, but Danny spoke too quickly and his American accent was too strong for me to catch every word. I tapped him timidly on the arm. “Um, wrong language,” I said in German.

“Oh, sorry,” he murmured, switching back. “Even though I’ve lived here for years, I still do that sometimes when I get nervous.”

He’s nervous? Why? Because of me?

“I mostly think in English,” he said, tapping his forehead. “That’s probably why.”

Despite having lived in Germany for nearly ten years, he still seemed more American than German.

“Which language do you dream in?”

“A mix of both. I usually don’t notice when it switches from one to the other.”

His mind was fascinating. “You were saying something about Maya,” I reminded him, eager to know everything I could about him.

“Oh, yeah,” he said and repeated what he’d said before, except in German this time.

“In your text, you said she was really important to you. Have you had her long?”

“I bought her two years ago,” Danny said. “All signs pointed to her not having long to live, but she made it through some rough patches and she’s still trucking.”

“Why in the world would anyone buy a sick old pony?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t help it. She was part of this circus that I drove past every day. She was injured and bedraggled, and no one was looking after her, so I asked if I could take her. It was a pity purchase. She was just as lost and lonely as I was.”

My jaw dropped. Lost and lonely? Those were the last words I’d have ever used to describe him.

Suddenly, I wanted to touch him. I reached for his arm and pulled him closer—so close that I could smell him, could feel his breath on my neck. The air began to crackle with electricity. I sought his eyes and lost myself in them, the way I always did. I stretched my chin up toward him. He tilted his head and kissed me carefully, almost tentatively. I held back, let him take the lead. He parted my lips with his tongue. We kissed more deeply, almost urgently, and I met his tongue with my own…

I took a quick gulp of air and felt him breathing faster as well. I gripped his hair with both hands, then let my fingers glide down his neck and shoulders, toward his chest. He stiffened immediately and broke off the kiss, stepping away from me again.

He took a deep breath and gripped my wrist to stop my hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go get Maya and take a walk.”

Running away, I thought. That’s what he’s doing right now, running away.

But from what? And why?

When we reached the stall, he took a bridle off a hook on the wall and buckled it in place on Maya’s head, along with the bit. I called Leika over, and we headed away from the paddock.

We walked side by side for a while in silence. Danny held the pony’s reins in his right hand and held out his left to me. I took it, and our fingers intertwined. Two of his fingers, two of mine, one of his, one of mine…

A weird way of holding hands.

“When are you going to pick me up for the fight tonight?” I asked.

“You can just come straight there with me. We can get a bite to eat and then drive over together. Saves time.”

I grinned. “But then I’ll smell like pony.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a martial arts arena, not a fashion show. Nobody will care.”

“What about Leika?”

“Leave her at my place, and we’ll pick her up afterward. Unless you think she’ll get scared?”

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll break your stuff?” I thought of Alexander, who was constantly worried about Leika knocking things over or chewing his stuff up or peeing everywhere. Which she never did, of course.

He stared at me, genuinely baffled. “Why are you always so worried about her ruining my stuff? It’s just stuff. It can be replaced.”

“She won’t break anything,” I told him. “And being alone in unfamiliar apartments doesn’t frighten her. We just have to spread out a blanket for her and give her a bowl of water.”

Danny nodded. “No problem.” He was wonderfully easy-going when it came to these kinds of things. “Let’s go back.” He nodded at Maya. “Want to get on?”

“You know how to ride?” I asked, shocked.

He shook his head. “Nope. Not at all.”

I laughed. “Let me guess: just enough to get by?” I asked, thinking back to his dance skills at the Mouse Trap.

He smiled. “Exactly. Besides, she’ll pretty much go home on her own.”

“Can she carry us both?”

“Hm… I’m about one seventy-five. You?”

“One twenty.”

“She can handle it this once,” he decided. “It’s not going to be all day or anything.” He placed his hands on the pony’s back, pushed up, and swung himself onto her. Then he scooted backward a little and patted the space in front of him.

“In front of you?” I asked, confused.

“Of course,” he said with a crooked grin. “I have to keep an eye on you.”

“Um…” I looked down in embarrassment. “I’ll never make it up there without a saddle.”

“No?” He gasped in mock horror.

I smirked. “I’m afraid not.”

Danny rolled his eyes toward the sky and sighed theatrically, then swung his leg back over the pony’s neck and slid to the ground. I bent one knee and gripped Maya’s thick mane, and Danny hefted me up onto her back. Then he got on again, behind me. Reaching past my hips to take the reins, he clicked his tongue, and Maya set into motion immediately. She trotted along obediently, with no need for him to drive her on or slow her down, and even without a saddle, she was as comfortable to sit on as a stuffed rocking horse. She had to be a real blessing for the girls at the children’s home.

After a while, Danny apparently got uncomfortable holding the reins, because he pressed them into my hand. They could just as well have been hanging between Maya’s ears, though—it wouldn’t have made a difference. The pony never strayed from her path to the paddock.

Without warning, Danny wrapped his arms around my hips. My pulse sped up as he placidly laid his chin on my shoulder and made himself comfortable.

It occurred to me then that, from where he sat behind me, his hands were completely free to roam wherever he chose. Not that they had so far. But the possibility completely distracted me. Maya sensed my change in mood immediately, turning her ears back like she was picking up radar, and she increased the pace.

At that exact moment, a tractor came barreling around the corner, moving much too fast. Instead of stopping, the driver honked at us. Frightened, Maya reared back. I was used to that kind of thing, and it wouldn’t have thrown me off balance if someone hadn’t been holding on to me. Danny and I slid back a bit before desperately leaning forward, trying to shift our weight. Maya set her front hooves down again, only to catapult her rear legs upward. Neither of us had expected that, and we flew over the pony’s head in a high arc.

Of course, we landed on the gravel path instead of the soft grass to either side of us. Out of habit, I gripped the reins tightly, and Maya came to an immediate stop. The tractor drove onward. Leika bounded toward me, whining, and licked my face.

“Fuck.” Danny sat up and shook himself. “Are you hurt?”

I struggled into a half-sitting position, laughing. “No, I’m fine. Man, Maya’s really got energy. You wouldn’t think it from looking at her. How about you—everything okay?”

“Never better.” He grinned but still eyed me critically. “You’re bleeding.”

I looked down, and sure enough, my hands were scraped, and blood was dripping from a long, thin wound on my left wrist. I wiped it away with my right hand. The wound wasn’t deep.

“You’re bleeding too,” I remarked, pointing to his knee. Danny’s jeans were completely torn up at the knees. And his injury looked more serious than mine—a thin rivulet of blood was running down his leg.

“No, no, no, goddammit.” He seemed panicked, which I couldn’t understand. He was a kickboxer, so surely he wasn’t afraid of a little blood.

He’s clearly a nutjob!

Good to see my inner voice had survived the fall as well.

“Let me see,” I said, reaching for his leg.

“Get away!” he shrieked, smacking my hand.

I stared at him, speechless. I’d just wanted to help!

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you, sorry, sorry!” He was switching back and forth between German and English. According to his earlier revelation, that meant he was nervous.

His excessive apology confused me even more.

Lunatic! my inner voice howled at me. He’s not just weird about blue, he’s weird about blood, too!

“I just wanted to look at it and help you,” I said defensively.

“No need, everything’s fine!” He stood up, but made no move to help me up. Instead, he carefully wiped his hands on his pants. When he was finished, he seemed to have himself under control again. “Shall we continue?”

I nodded and stood up.

“Come here, I’ll help you back onto the horse.” He gripped my shin and lifted me back onto the pony’s back, then began trotting along beside us, with Leika hovering close by.

“Aren’t you getting on, too?”

“No.”

“Why not? You scared?”

Danny laughed derisively. “Oh, for sure! I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.” Then he fell silent, wordlessly regarding the blood smears on his hands. I could tell he was putting his walls back up. His whole mood had completely changed.

“Is it because of tonight?” I suddenly realized. “Are you not allowed to fight now?”

He glanced up at me, and I detected the faintest hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Because of a skinned knee?” He raised an eyebrow and gave me a have you lost your mind look.

“What is it, then?” I asked quietly, but he’d shut down again, and he didn’t say another word until we got back to his place.

 

***

 

Danny entered the apartment first. Christina met us in the hallway.

“Tina,” Danny said to her quietly, and whatever he was communicating to her with just that one word, she understood it immediately. She nodded, then took my elbow and led me to one bathroom, while Danny disappeared into the other. As I washed my hands, Tina fetched disinfectant and a large Band-Aid.

“Hold still, Jessica,” she said and rinsed the wound. I watched her. She had a beautiful face. She reminded me of an angel, though the hair color wasn’t quite right. Although she was a little taller than me, she probably weighed a few pounds less. Carefully, she applied the bandage to the meticulously cleaned wound.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

She beamed at me. “Sure. Happy to help.”

“Why’s he like that?” I asked, tipping my head toward the hall.

“Like what?” Christina blinked a tiny bit too innocently. Somehow, I got the feeling that she knew exactly what I meant.

“So dramatic. He made this tiny little incident into a huge thing. We fell off of Maya, and he’s acting like it was the end of the world.”

She shrugged. “You fell off his horse. He’s probably really embarrassed. Putting all the blame on himself.”

That sounded plausible. Why did I overthink everything all the time? I decided what I needed was a little distraction. “I’m going to his competition tonight. Are you?”

She shook her head with an apologetic smile.

“Okay. Well, Leika’s going to stay here.” I gestured to the panting dog, who had settled in a safe distance away from the girl she didn’t know. “I’d like to leave her in Danny’s room. It’d be best if you could give her a little space. She’s not very good with strangers.”

“No problem. I won’t go in there.” Christina touched my arm. “Come to the kitchen! I made dinner. Fettuccine with rutabaga sauce—I’m sure there’s enough for all of us.”

As we headed to the kitchen, Danny emerged from the other bathroom and fell in step behind us.

I was starting to really like it here, in this apartment that I’d only been to twice. Christina and Danny both made me feel right at home. Nobody minded my panting dog with her dirty paws, and there were no questions, no rigid expectations.

Suddenly, I wished I could be part of it, too.

 

***

 

There really was plenty of food for all of us, even though Danny ate enough for three people.

“I need energy,” he said apologetically, as I stared at him in amazement, wondering where he could possibly put all that food.

Together, we set up a blanket and water bowl for Leika, and then he packed his gym bag.

“You’ll meet Jörg there, too,” he said as he stuffed a pair of jogging pants into the bag.

“Who’s Jörg?”

“He’s from the children’s home. He looked after me. He’s been my legal guardian ever since my parents…died.” I saw him and Christina exchange a quick glance.

“You like him? Is he nice?” I asked.

“He’s the best thing that could have happened to me. I love him.” He picked up his bag and his car keys and went over to Christina. “Might not be back until late,” he said. “Will you be okay?”

She nodded but bit her lower lip. For a moment, I was afraid she’d throw her arms around his neck and beg him to stay.

“See you later,” he said tenderly, kissing her on the forehead.

Just when I was starting to think I could like Christina…

Snorting loudly, I followed Danny out to the hall.

“What’s wrong?”

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head, and walked right past him to the car.

He raised his arms, looking baffled. “Did I do something wrong?”

Yes! I screamed at him in my head. You’re a moody freak with the audacity to kiss another girl in front of me—one who lives with you, no less!

I crossed my arms and nearly chewed the inside of my lip bloody.

Danny regarded me for a moment. “You’re jealous,” he concluded at last.

I wanted to yell at him, Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! Instead, I stared morosely at the ground.

“How do I explain this to you…” He hesitated. “Christina is like a sister to me. We’re very close, but in a different way than you think. There’s nothing sexual between us. I wouldn’t sleep with her if she was the last woman on Earth.”

Seems like he feels the same way about you! my inner voice pointed out disdainfully.

Sighing softly, Danny stepped closer and lifted my chin, the way he always did when he had something truly important to say to me. “You’re going to have to trust me,” he whispered. “One day you’ll understand, and then you’ll look back at your jealousy and laugh. Believe me!”

He kissed me on the lips and then got into the car.

 

“He’s not concentrating at all,” Jörg muttered, giving me an accusatory look, as though it was all my fault. I suppose it probably was.

I’d liked Jörg from the moment I met him. In his mid-forties, with two grown daughters, he was the typical friendly-dad type. His gentle, light-brown eyes had immediately made me feel like I could trust him unconditionally. Though, now that he’d realized I was affecting Danny’s performance, those eyes weren’t quite so gentle.

Danny’s opponent was a young Russian who was half a head taller than him—and definitely stronger. But what Danny lacked in strength, he made up for in stamina and speed. Still, his trainer—a muscular Turkish-German who ran the gym Danny worked at—seemed dissatisfied with his performance. In the break between rounds, he stomped into the arena, snorting with anger, and pulled Danny aside.

“Uh-oh, Dogan’s really mad,” Jörg said. “Danny’s about to get an earful.”

We went down to the mats as well, to where Danny was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. He was wearing his gym’s colors, along with red bandages on his hands and feet.

Dogan was pacing back and forth in front of him. He reminded me of the red bull from The Last Unicorn.

“Dan, what are you doing?” Dogan bellowed. “What do you think this is, girls’ ballet?”

Danny rolled his eyes, but his trainer ignored him as he began analyzing the fight. “This guy’s stronger than you. Miles ahead of you—”

“Whoa, wait, really?” Danny gasped theatrically. “I know this will come as a shock to you, but…I’ve already noticed!”

“Well, I’m genuinely surprised, since you’re lolling around out there like you’re half-asleep,” Dogan snapped. “If you know he’s stronger than you, why are you trying to box him the whole time? You can’t box, so cut it out already!”

Danny nodded in understanding.

“And all the stupid hopping around, what’s that about? You trying to bore him until he falls asleep?”

“That’d be something!” Danny remarked jovially.

Dogan cuffed him on the shoulder. “Quit grinning. Pull yourself together and start using your damn legs. Kick, don’t punch!”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Then do it, for God’s sake. You had three perfect opportunities for a side kick! Three! How many of them did you see, hm?”

“None.”

“Exactly, that’s the problem. Why not?”

Danny shrugged. “Forgot.”

“If you forget again, I’ll forget that I’m not supposed to throw anything at your damn head.” Dogan shook his head in exasperation. “You completely jacked up that flying kick earlier, too. Who were you trying to impress with that? My ten-year-old daughter can do better. What’s the most important thing about a flying kick?”

“Kick at the highest point of the jump,” Danny parroted obediently.

“So why the hell did you kick just before you landed?”

The referee stepped into the middle of the mats again, and Dogan gave Danny a rough jab in the ribs. “Get yourself together, kid. Feint low to the right, high kick left to the temple.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on,” Danny muttered. “There’s still another round left.”

The referee shooed the trainers away from the mats, and we went back to our seats, Dogan following behind us. He gave me a friendly smile as we sat again. “Hey, I’m Dogan. Don’t worry, Danny and I actually get along just fine.”

Yeah, I got that. It was like a military barracks around here.

“Jessica.” I extended a hand. “Have you been training him long?”

“Five years,” Dogan said. “Since he moved here. So, long enough to know he sometimes needs a kick in the ass to get going.”

Dogan seemed a tick too pushy to me. Maybe that was how trainers had to be, though. Maybe that was the whole reason Danny was so successful.

“Push kick, Dan!” Dogan shouted excitedly, clapping his hands. I decided then that I did like him. Suddenly, he jumped up and whistled. “Yesss! Now he’s got it!”

Danny had hit his opponent in the shoulder with a crazy-looking kick. The Russian briefly struggled to keep his balance before returning to home position. At that moment, Danny faked a kick to the Russian’s shin with his right foot, and when the other man moved to block, Danny smashed him in the face with the back of his left foot. But the Russian reacted with unexpected agility, catching Danny’s foot and attempting to throw him backward.

“Why’s he so lame today?” Dogan grouched.

Danny took the opportunity for a roundhouse kick, using the leg caught in his opponent’s hand as support and then twisting around quickly to ram his right shin into the guy’s ribs. The Russian stumbled several times, and Danny got in a few more kicks, adding to his score.

Slowly, he was catching up. He had changed his entire strategy in one moment. He’d stopped punching, stopped jumping away from his opponent—what Dogan had described as “stupid hopping around.” It meant he took a couple more punches, but he got in quite a few kicks in return.

Danny took another hit that sent him stumbling backward, but he used it as a chance to rebound and get a running start. He jumped six feet through the air and hit his opponent’s chest with both feet at once—the flying kick Dogan had requested. The Russian went sprawling to the mat, where he lay motionless for several seconds.

The kick looked great to me, but Dogan buried his face in his hands and shook his head. “He screwed it up again.” Danny still got three points for it, though, which put him in the lead.

And he ended up winning, though not by much.

Dogan looked more or less satisfied with the results, and to my relief, no blood had been shed.

I followed Jörg down to the mats and threw my arms around Danny’s neck. His T-shirt was so wet it would have created a puddle had I wrung it out, but I didn’t mind—I was just glad he’d made it through the fight.

His kiss was salty, and his hair was sticking out in two clumps like antennae. Apart from a tiny, nearly bloodless mark on his cheek, he was unhurt. And I’d decided that I needed to start coming to his fights and practices whenever possible, so I could enjoy the sight of him. For I’d learned that I especially liked the way he looked in athletic gear. Just the way his jogging pants hung at his hips was enough to make me want to whisk him off to my bedroom. Even though he was sweaty and disheveled—or maybe precisely because of that.

After he’d showered and changed, we picked up Leika and he took me home. I nearly fell asleep in the car after the day we’d had.

Why the hell didn’t Danny ever seem to get tired?