The second I press my chest against her back to show her the proper stance to defend against an attack, I realize just how bad this idea was on my part. I had an inkling when I offered and almost took it back, but I’m a certified self-defense instructor. I teach women all the time. I’ve never been so insanely attracted to any of them, granted. I thought I could detach into teacher mode and turn everything off.

I can’t.

What was I thinking? I have a hard enough time keeping myself in check with Hayley even without physical contact, and here she is letting me touch her. Even though, theoretically, it’s a great idea—she needs to learn how to throw a punch or take down a would-be assailant—I’m the last person who should be teaching her this.

She should be taught by someone who isn’t thinking about how warm and soft her skin is. Even after all night in a bar followed by a road trip in an old beat-up car, I still catch a whiff of her fruity shampoo when she turns her head. Her perfume still lingers on her skin; there’s a hint of it in the air when I show her how to hold her fist for a punch. Her skin is soft beneath my fingers.

I shake my head, hoping it’ll clear all the thoughts I definitely shouldn’t be having right now. I need to focus on her safety, not on her.

“This is just basic self-defense,” I tell her, desperate to get myself in the right frame of mind. “It’s not enough to take on anyone with a weapon, but I’ll teach you a basic disarming technique in case someone gets close enough to you with a knife or a gun. Even if they don’t have a weapon at all, you’ll be able to stun them for long enough to get away.”

“I know it’s best to be prepared, but I really hope I don’t ever have to use any of this.”

“I hope you don’t either.” I can’t stand the thought of someone trying to hurt her, making her fear for her life the way she did in the club last night. I could go a lifetime without seeing that panic on her face again. I want her to be able to take control and not be at the mercy of a stranger who wants to do her harm, on the off chance that there’s a next time. “If a man puts his hands on you and you don’t want them there, I’m going to show you how to make sure you can get them off and keep yourself safe.”

It’ll be difficult to do here without any gloves, mats, or props that I usually use, but I can teach her the basics without full force.

She nods, taking the defensive stance I just taught her. It isn’t perfect, but 30 minutes into the lesson I wouldn’t expect perfection.

We practice until she has relatively good form with a straight punch, a groin kick, and a knee kick. Hayley is a quick study, and she’s stronger than I anticipated.

“Do you work out?” I ask, wanting to get a feel for other ways I could teach her to use her natural strength.

Hayley hesitates, sliding her plump bottom lip through her teeth and nearly making me groan. I’d done such a great job of slipping into the teacher headspace, and now all I want to do is kiss her and find out what she tastes like.

“Not as much as I did before I moved to D.C.,” she explains, pulling me out of the fantasy brewing in my mind. “In college I was on the volleyball team, and I’m competitive as hell. Staying in the gym gave me an edge, so I was there pretty much all the time.”

That makes me smile. It explains why her punch is so strong, and why there’s so much force behind her kicks. Strong as she is, though, the next part might be more of a challenge for her.

“Someone could try and grab you by caging you in with his arms,” I explain. “They could put their arms around you from the front, which is rare, or sneak up on you from behind.”

Hayley narrows her eyes, like she’s thinking about the problem and trying to figure out the right way to respond to that threat based on what I’ve just taught her. I’m glad she’s taking this so seriously.

“If he comes at me from the front, then I knee him in the groin,” she replies proudly. “From behind, I…punch his forearms?” She demonstrates by curling her right hand in a fist, mimicking hitting her forearm by moving her hand up and down.

It’s a good guess, but an incorrect one.

“For anyone who’s bigger than you are, it’ll be difficult for you to get away. Even with the groin kicks and punches we just rehearsed. In any situation where someone puts their arms around you and tries to overpower you, you have to be as difficult to control as possible.”

I move up right behind her, pressing my chest against her back. She tenses and turns her head in my direction. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I reassure her softly. I don’t want her to think that this is real or that she needs to come at me full force.

She nods, giving me a soft smile that makes me want to kiss her. Again. I have to refocus, because I can’t kiss her. Especially not now, when she’s on the verge of learning a skill that’s important. One that could save her life if she’s ever in a situation like the one she was in last night.

“I know you won’t.”

I take a deep breath and clear my head, getting myself under control. “I can’t think of a better analogy to use, but if you ever get into a situation like this, where some attacker gets their arms around you to try and control you, the best thing you can do is think of yourself like a wild animal,” I tell her. I place my hand on her bicep, mimicking the motion she should use to push against my arms. “They’ll do anything to escape when they think their lives are in danger. You need to squirm and wiggle as much as you can. Don’t focus on any precision moves of hitting a particular area. Just crouch down, lower your center of gravity, and flail. Elbow, kick, whatever…but make it as hard as you can for them to hold on to you.”

She shivers a little in my arms, probably imagining a scenario I hope like hell she’s never in.

“Want to give it a try?” I ask.

She steps out of my embrace and raises her brows. “To be clear, you don’t want me to actually elbow you or knee you in the balls, right?”

I laugh. “Yeah, please don’t do that. Just focus on trying to get away for now, steering clear of my balls.”

I wouldn’t blame her if she did want to knee me in the balls after I flirted with her in the club last night, then let her believe it was an act.

“Okay,” she replies tentatively, which doesn’t give me much confidence, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.

“Ready?” I ask.