Nina Ch. 01

CARTER

If Coach Carter Hudson had been paying more attention, he might have declared the gym closed that Friday evening. But he wasn't a football guy, and it was only beginning to register to him that most of his clientele were, most definitely, football guys. And football gals: a third of the people at his gym were women, and half of them were moms of kids in school. He should have expected that nobody would show up today, the day of this annual game everybody looked forward to.

It was his second year here, in this smaller-than-average Texas town. The gym was doing well, and Carter—a natural-born networker and extrovert—had made friends. Some of those friends had even invited him to the game, which promised to be exciting, a heated rivalry made even juicier this year by the opposing team's new quarterback and excellence in other competitive sports. The two high schools locked horns in football, swimming, volleyball, and soccer, and they were better for it. But Carter just couldn't get into football, and he had a gym to run. True, the latest amateur fights had happened two weeks ago, and even his fighters would probably take the night off. But somebody might show up.

Carter was to be proven right twice over.

The electronic doorbell announced someone's arrival, at kind of an odd time: five-thirty. Hardly anybody showed up midway between class times. As he made his way to the front of the gym, Carter wondered if it might be a new student, or somebody looking to use the free weights rather than take the next kickboxing class, which started at six.

"Hey, man," said the newcomer. Carter returned the greeting enthusiastically. It was Ben, Ben... something. Carter was good with names, but he'd only seen Ben a few times, when they both trained with a mutual friend and mentor, Uli Jorgensen. Carter thought Ben and Uli were cut from the same cloth. He knew Uli well enough to have met Uli's German mother and Danish father, but he didn't know how Ben came by his tall, lanky build and blond hair.

"Thanks for stopping by, Ben." Carter held out his hand. Ben had a gym bag slung over one shoulder; he'd clearly come to check out Carter's gym and to train. Carter waved a hand at the open gym and laughed. "It's dead today—"

"Football, right?" Ben, who had grown up in this town and now coached at a larger gym one city over, was familiar with the priorities of the area.

They strode back to the mat area, and Ben disappeared into the locker room to change.

"Seen Uli lately?" asked Carter when Ben returned. He'd been at the gym since 11 that morning to coach and train, and he was already dressed in a gym t-shirt that fit snugly over his muscular chest and back. Sweat from earlier in the day had dried when he cooled down after his last afternoon class ended at four.

"Yeah. He came over to the gym as a guest teacher last week, with some drills I'd seen before but wasn't real familiar with."

They warmed up for a few minutes over talk about Uli, drills, the latest competition, the next UFC, and how business was going.

They were going through grappling drills and flows when the door chimed again. It was nearly six o'clock.

"I guess you do have students today," Ben observed. He had Carter in side control. Neither of them were putting much energy into it, instead using the opportunity to practice smooth transitions between moves.

Carter paused. He didn't have a good view of the front desk, so he thought he might need to go out front, in case it was someone new to the gym needing assistance. But the light footsteps told him this person was bypassing the desk and coming into the locker area. A few seconds later, he saw her face.

So did Ben, who sat back abruptly. "Nina," he murmured.

Unsure why this was suddenly an awkward moment, Carter sat up, too. He realized they were both staring at her, but he knew she wouldn't look up and see them. This particular young woman always looked down, just in front of her feet. It had taken months for him to get her to meet his eyes for longer than a second.

Only a few weeks ago, she had even smiled. Not the forced, small smile of an uncomfortable person who thinks they ought to smile, but a genuine, relaxed smile. It had only happened the once, but he was relieved to know she was finally starting to feel at ease. He wanted every student to feel welcome. He had also observed a different reaction in her to women than to men, and although he wasn't the biggest man in the gym, he had about thirty pounds and a few inches on her.

Some students—usually the women, but not always—came in with a little anxiety about trying this new and aggressive sport. Besides his expertise in martial arts and his skills in teaching, Carter had to work the psychological angle to maintain a well-behaved student body. Nobody was allowed to get mean, and he watched out for more experienced students who didn't treat the newcomers with decency.

But he also watched out for students like Nina, who seemed shy or nervous. Women were told all their lives not to go too far in standing up for themselves, he knew. Not to be too loud, or too bold, or too strong in their rejections of men. He'd seen it first-hand, and he'd heard many women describe the same phenomenon. He believed them.

Not only that, but Carter had seen, too, the way some men tended to handle rejection, as though they were entitled to the attention and deference of women. He disdained those men. Carter had no patience for men who were so fragile they were threatened by a woman who wasn't a doormat. He saved his patience for the women who wanted to come to his gym, some of whom might never have been encouraged—or even allowed—to be strong, loud, and aggressive before. And he counted among the strongest men those who respected their female teammates. He was proud of his students.

Once in a while, a woman came along who learned Carter was single and took an interest in him. But he had certain private desires that he wasn't sure how to share with the right person, not since he had moved away from where he used to live, where he'd had connections and the occasional satisfying date. After his move, he'd visited a special club, but only occasionally. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was coming up against a problem with Nina Ives.

Nina. Nervous, shy, but responsive. He was figuring her out. In fact, he was pretty sure he could tell that underneath her anxiety, exacerbating it, was a submissiveness to authority—especially male authority—that made training her in martial arts a little tricky.

Of course, that tendency in her spoke volumes to him. Volumes he was determined to tune out, for now.

Nina. He sighed as he watched her scurry toward the ladies' locker room, her duffel clutched tightly against her side by a long, pale arm. The coach in him wanted so badly for her to use her voice, to take up space. To lift her head up and look everybody in the eye; to participate in classes with vigor and assertiveness.

But the man in him, with his peculiar desires, recognized something in her and wanted something else, something very different.

Something impossible.

He called out to her just before she reached the locker room door. "Hey, Nina!" She looked up and froze. From beside him on the mat, Ben gave her a cursory wave too. "Hey, Nina," he said in echo. Carter saw something pass between them, and for a moment, he thought she was going to turn around and head back out.

But she smiled in a way that he could tell, even from yards away, was wavering, and she said in a falsely chipper voice, "Hey, guys." Her voice cracked a little and she gulped. Carter heard Ben let out a low chuckle, one Nina wouldn't have heard. When Carter looked over, he noticed Ben's expression was somewhere between knowing and eager.

Nina's obvious nervousness caused Carter to feel tingling all over his skin. At the same time, he had the sinking feeling that Nina's participation today wouldn't be enthusiastic. It might be like putting something out of its shell... something very stubborn.

"You know each other?" he asked casually, softly. They hadn't put any music on, and he didn't really want Nina to hear them talking about her, depending on where the conversation went.

"Uh, yeah." A wolfish smile spread across Ben's lips.

Carter waited. Ben appeared to be lost in thought, gazing at the closed locker room door.

Ben sucked in a deep breath and went on. "I was her... I taught a boxing class at a community center, and she was in it." He flicked a meaningful glance at Carter.

"Oh." Carter understood. Surely, she was just as nervous back then as she was now.

Ben gave him a sideways look. "How is she doing here?"

"Fine. She's, you know," Carter lowered his voice as much as possible before going on, "kind of nervous. Doesn't think she can do some of the things she can absolutely do."

"Doesn't take instruction well?"

"I wouldn't go that far." Carter was frowning. He hoped this wouldn't be an issue. "Look, she's just started to loosen up a little—we even got her to do a little sparring last week."

"Really?" Ben looked surprised.

Carter nodded. "Mmhmm. And we're going to keep at it, see what happens. She's not bad."

"Oh, no, she's not bad," said Ben, but by the tone of his voice, Carter thought he was referring to Nina's physical attributes. And she was looking good today. Nina was free of her sports bra and usual oversized t-shirt, probably wearing casual Friday workplace garb. Carter couldn't help but notice how her silky blouse clung to her breasts.

In a few weeks, this brief Texas autumn would be over, and everybody would be wearing clothes for bundling up. Since Nina usually showed up in her loose gym shirts anyway, Carter didn't know much about what she looked like underneath other than the rare occasions when she came in still dressed for work.

Her pants, on the other hand... Well, Carter didn't mind catching a side view of Nina doing squats. Or a rear view, he thought guiltily, though he didn't look on purpose, and he didn't look long. Nina's black, no-nonsense, spandex leggings might have been understated in color, but they couldn't camouflage her shapely butt and her thick, muscular legs. Since she'd been coming to the gym, Carter had noticed her calves looking sharper, almost chiseled. Otherwise she appeared to remain very curvy indeed.

Men and women of all shapes and sizes came through the gym. Some dropped a lot of weight for fights; others put on or kept their bulk and did well for themselves. Carter had some female fighters at his gym, but many women took classes for self-defense, and still others for staying in shape. He busted their asses, and they loved him for it. Besides the satisfaction of getting paid to do work he liked, it didn't hurt that he got to flex his control and dole out some physical discomfort.

Some of the women were very attractive, he thought, such as Nina; and he tried not to enjoy to an obscene degree the dominance he had over them during a class. He never ogled, and he kept his mind on coaching. But at the periphery of his thoughts lingered other ideas. In his private time, who could judge him for indulging in the occasional fantasy?

And Nina, with her quiet refusals to cooperate at unexpected times; with her soft grey eyes darting away too quickly; Nina, with her shy demeanor that barely hid an eagerness to please... Coach Carter was endlessly frustrated by Nina, hopeful for Nina, in ways totally appropriate and completely inappropriate for their Coach/student relationship.

Carter cared about how his students perceived him. He wanted them to learn, not to be worried or intimidated. He paid attention to their body language and was getting better all the time at reading people.

He knew he was in a power position. If this was a different setting—or if he had a woman here who wanted him to use his power for other things—well, maybe that was a fantasy best left at home. He relished the thought, but on his own time. Besides, without verbal cues, he couldn't know what was really going on in someone's mind; he was only human.

Seeing Nina threw Carter back to a difficult moment a couple of weeks ago, a moment right after her first genuine smile. He had been pleasantly surprised at her letting her guard down, her veneer of distrust peeled away to reveal her strong desire to please him. In fact he'd been so surprised that he had let his guard down, too. He had needed her to be kneeling for the next exercise and had told her so: "Please get on your knees for me," he'd said, as usual.

And she had done it easily, freely, with the remnants of that smile on her face and no trace of her usual nerves. He'd looked down at her kneeling in front of him with her expression so open, when a different look stole across her face. It was something beyond a student's cooperation; it was soft and vulnerable. She gazed into his eyes for a moment that went on for an eternity. He read willingness there, and his breath froze in his chest as heat rushed south through his body...

There had been three other students present, but even without them, he would have recovered quickly anyway. Nina looked just as thrown as he felt, caught off guard. He walked the class through the demonstration, his senses alert to her every breath, part of his mind wondering what she was thinking as he used his body to move and control hers. She hadn't become tense again, but she seemed far away; maybe she was a little embarrassed.

Carter had gone home that evening and tried his best not to think of her, but in the end he gave in, imagining what could have happened if they'd been elsewhere, if he were not her coach and she not his student... If they had been at that club, perhaps.

Now, Carter looked swiftly at Ben. Of course; why hadn't he realized it before? He had seen Ben somewhere other than at gym with Uli. He distinctly remembered Ben's face from a club he'd gone to a few times at the much larger nearby city. Neither he nor Ben lived there, but it was the closest place with a club that catered to people who were into what they were into.

Immediately, Carter knew that with Nina and Ben's history, the three of them alone together this dark Friday night in the gym were asking for trouble.

NINA

"You know each other?"

Nina caught bits and pieces of the quiet conversation happening in the main area of the gym. She didn't usually show up in street clothes, but she'd been running late from work and didn't want to take the time to change there. It was really six of one, half a dozen of the other; she would have to take the time to change somewhere. It wasn't like she'd planned for Carter to see her in something other than her baggy, ratty gym gear. No, it wasn't like she cared about whether or not he noticed her, or saw her as a woman, not at all. Especially not in this shirt, which she knew was flattering.

Of course, now she was grateful for the time to think after realizing that, one, the gym was nearly empty, and two, Ben was here. Ben! It would have been bad enough to have a lesson alone with Carter—well, bad and good, though she was trying to resist that daydream—but to have Ben here, too, might just be untenable.

She thought furiously. It would be too obvious and rude if she left. They had seen her. More than rude, it would be like she was admitting she was intimidated. Even though intimidation gave her a little squirming feeling of pleasure (she could admit that much to herself), what would they think of her? Perhaps she could invent an excuse to leave shortly after class got started. Or, even better, maybe some other people would show up.

Ten minutes later, she had set that hope free and was enduring the slight embarrassment of warming up alone. Nina wasn't alone in the room—Coach Carter and Ben were there—but instead of warming up with her, they simply watched and chatted.

Aside from her usual nervousness, she felt anxious at being the only student there, with an extra helping of anxiety at being the center of attention. She knew she was blushing. She even felt the skin across her belly heating up.

The men only seemed to get more and more relaxed. Nina felt like she was in a spotlight that kept heating up. As her nerves frayed, she wondered if they could sense her tension, if her loss of calm only added to their position of control. And this was just warm-ups.

Coach Carter seemed a little too gleeful as he called out exercises for her to do. It was almost as though he not only knew how uncomfortable she was, but he also enjoyed it. This thought flashed across her mind and triggered a whole new level of blushing.

And there sat Ben, cool as ever, limbs sprawled out comfortably. He was a man of amazing bodily control. Besides being a boxer, he was a gymnast, too, Nina recalled, though he defied the stereotype of having a slight build. His solid shoulders were just yummy, and the memory of his hands holding her arms and wrists, manipulating her during a demonstration those years ago in his class, made her feel a little dizzy. She snapped back to reality, not wanting to goof.

Listening to Carter explain the focus of the day, a combination of strikes and kicks, Nina felt a more acute attack of nerves. Why had she come? She could barely squeak by without being noticed in a full class; what did she think would happen on a day like today? Or, night, really. It was midwinter and the light from outside was almost gone. The gym felt small and close around the trio.

All of the guilt at her past anxiety and poor performance in Ben's class came rushing back, and Nina felt tears pricking at her eyes. She knew this was going to be bad. Why did they even bother trying to coach her? She could just watch them, and try, and flounder; and it would suck, but at least she wouldn't feel guilty, like she was wasting their time.

On some level, she knew that she regarded these men not only in high esteem, but also with a mixture of reverence and forbidden attraction. If they knew the effect they had on her... If they knew how her need to please them conflicted with her instinct to quash that feeling, crippling her... She shivered. She felt weak, but she would remain stoic. Perhaps they would devote little time to her and mostly focus on their own training.

As she looked up, she found Carter staring back at her, with his dark brown eyes cast in shadow under his even darker brows and hair. Had he seen her shiver? She could tell he put an effort into being a little bit softer with her, which she appreciated but which also mortified her. She didn't want special treatment; it made her feel terribly guilty at taking up his attention. But she knew it was just him being kind, reading her emotions as best he could, and trying to be a good coach.

Ben, too, had been soft. She remembered how he handled her easily, gently, and it only made her stiffen even more. She had to fight herself; she had to stay cold. If she relaxed, she was afraid she would do something that would tell him things she never wanted him to know about her. Nina was committed to staying neutral and safe and guarded.

She didn't know how to let herself relax without slipping into a mental space that terrified her. Vulnerability had to be avoided. Nina held herself back with an iron grip, but unfortunately, her rigidity and shyness came with consequences.

When Ben had become irritated and clipped with her, it broke her heart a little, but it set her on fire a little, too: his snapping commands and hard look made her want to roll over like a dog at his feet. Her internal struggle had raged on. She would obey just enough not to send him over the edge and to show she would listen to his authority as her teacher, but never let her mask slip, never reveal her deeper longing for total vulnerability. Privately, she allowed herself the relief of imagining what it would be like if he were to take control... And in his class, she had always stayed quiet, guarded, and deeply ashamed.