Jordan finished his water and capped the bottle.

"I’m going back in the ring now."

"Don’t let her mount you again unless you’re prepared for the consequences."

"There are no consequences."

"The consequence is that you’re going to catch feelings for a woman who could literally murder you." Leo’s voice carried genuine concern underneath the teasing. "And then you’re going to have to explain to Chloe and Kumiko why you came home with hickeys shaped like fist marks."

Jordan ducked back through the ropes without responding.

Maya was waiting for him, her shadow boxing having transitioned into stretching that displayed her flexibility in ways that made Jordan’s throat dry. Her leg was extended above her head, one hand gripping her ankle while she held the position with the casual ease of someone for whom such displays were unremarkable.

"Ready for round two?"

"Always."

Maya lowered her leg and approached.

The next thirty minutes were brutal.

She clinched him over and over, each time demanding that he fight harder for position, that he commit more fully to the contest of leverage and strength. Jordan’s body learned through repetition, through the ache of muscles being used in unfamiliar ways, through the constant correction of Maya’s hands repositioning him when he made mistakes.

And underneath the training, something else was happening.

Each clinch lasted a little longer than necessary. Each reset brought them a little closer together. Maya’s corrections involved more contact than strictly required, her hands lingering on his arms and shoulders and neck with touches that blurred the line between instruction and something else.

Jordan noticed.

He suspected Maya noticed him noticing.

Neither of them acknowledged it.

By the time Maya called the session, Jordan was drenched in sweat and breathing like he’d run a marathon. His arms felt like noodles. His legs were trembling. His core ached from the constant engagement required to maintain balance against someone who was actively trying to destroy it.

But underneath the exhaustion, there was something else.

Progress.

"Better." Maya’s assessment came as she unwrapped her hands. "You’re committing more. Still hesitating at critical moments, but less than before."

"High praise."

"It’s accurate praise." She met his eyes with that intense focus that made him feel like she was seeing something beneath the surface. "Same time Thursday. We’ll work on dirty boxing. Short range strikes that create openings for the clinch work we covered today."

"Looking forward to it."

Maya’s mouth twitched.

"You’re the first person who’s ever said that to me without sarcasm."

"Maybe I’m a masochist."

"Maybe." She grabbed her gym bag from the corner of the ring. "Or maybe you’re just someone who understands that growth requires pain. Most people avoid pain at all costs. They stay comfortable. They stay weak." Her eyes held his. "You keep showing up despite knowing I’m going to hurt you. That’s either stupid or admirable. I haven’t decided which."

She ducked through the ropes and walked toward the women’s locker room without waiting for a response.

Jordan watched her go.

Her back was a landscape of defined muscle, each movement creating shadows that played across her skin like art. Her braid swung with each step, a dark pendulum that drew attention to the curve of her waist where it met her hips. Her legs carried her with the kind of grace that made walking look like a choreographed performance.

Kyle and Leo were waiting.

"So." Kyle’s tone was deliberately casual. "How was clinch work?"

"Educational."

"I bet it was." Leo’s grin was insufferable. "Very hands-on education. Very thorough instruction. Very personal attention from the terrifying murder woman."

"She’s not a murder woman."

"She literally competes in underground fights where the only rule is don’t kill your opponent." Leo ticked points off on his fingers. "She knocked out a guy twice her size last month. Her father runs a boxing gym in the roughest part of the city. She has scars on her knuckles from where she’s punched people so hard she cut herself."

"That just means she’s dedicated to her craft."

"Her craft is violence, Jordan. She is professionally violent. And she spent an hour rubbing herself all over you while teaching you how to be professionally violent too."

Kyle intervened before Leo could continue.

"What Leo is trying to say, poorly, is that Maya Santos showing interest in anyone is unusual. Maya Santos showing interest in a guy she’s only known for three weeks is unprecedented." Kyle’s expression was serious now. "I’ve trained here for two years. I’ve never seen her work with anyone the way she works with you. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working."

"I’m just showing up."

"Maybe that’s enough." Kyle grabbed his towel from the bench. "Most people don’t. Most people try Maya’s training once, realize it hurts, and never come back. You keep returning despite knowing exactly what you’re walking into."

"The System says growth requires discomfort."

"The System?" Leo perked up. "What system? Is this some kind of training app? A methodology? A cult?"

Jordan realized his mistake.

"Figure of speech. I meant my personal philosophy. My internal system for self-improvement."

"Your internal system involves getting beaten up by hot women?" Leo’s skepticism was palpable. "That’s not a philosophy. That’s a fetish."

"It’s discipline."

"It’s masochism."

"Those aren’t mutually exclusive."

Kyle laughed despite himself.

"He’s got you there, Leo. Discipline often looks like masochism from the outside."

Leo grumbled something about both of them being insane and returned to his phone.

Jordan checked the time.

5:47 PM.

Dinner with Lila was at seven, which gave him just over an hour to shower, change, and mentally prepare for whatever Kumiko had transformed the small gathering into. The group chat had been suspiciously quiet since his last check, which either meant the planning had concluded or had escalated to a point where text communication was insufficient.

He suspected the latter.

"I need to head out." Jordan grabbed his gym bag. "Dinner thing tonight."

"With Chloe and Kumiko?"

"And others. Kumiko invited people."

Kyle’s eyebrows rose.

"How many people?"

"I’m afraid to check."