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Christ.

“Well, look at it this way,” I say. “We’ve got that out our systems now. Means we can concentrate.”

“Mm-hmm.” She doesn’t sound convinced.

I prop myself up on an elbow. “How you doing, anyway? No too sore after last night, and now this?”

“I’m fine.” She hooks her fingers behind her head and lets out a contented sigh. “Better than fine.”

“Glad to hear it.” I roll the condom off my dick, then tug my boxers and shorts back up. “Let me get rid of this, then we’re gonnae do some actual self-defence.”

I get to my feet and can’t resist glancing down at her. Her T-shirt is rucked up round her waist, and she hasn’t bothered to close her legs. Not so prim now. Her pussy is pink and swollen and still glistening from what I just did to it.

“Do us a favour, eh? Put that away before I’m back. It’s pretty distracting.”

“Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

Shaking my head and chuckling, I go through to the kitchen, where I wrap the condom in a wad of kitchen roll and drop it in the bin. I wash my hands then fill a glass of cold water and take a few sips.

Focus, Ryan.

Because I do want her to learn this stuff. I keep thinking about that prick at the Grove, his hand clamped round her arm, and her frozen, not making a sound. If that ever happens again, I want her to know how to react. But she’s never going to learn anything if I can’t teach her for two minutes without getting my cock out and fucking her.

So I do what I do before walking out for a fight. I close my eyes. Breathe in slow through my nose, then out through my mouth. I let everything else drop away until there’s only the job I’m here to do, and tonight that job is teaching my girlfriend a bit of self-defence.

Girlfriend. That word still sounds strange.

One more deep breath, then I open my eyes again. Aye, that’s me ready. I can do this.

I fill a second glass for Briony, then head back through to the gym.

Oh, fuck.

She hasn’t put her leggings back on. In fact, she’s taken off her T-shirt, and her bra. She’s stark naked, stretched out over the weight bench in front of the mirrors, every bit of her on show.

Her eyes find my reflection, and she smiles a very naughty smile. “Hi, Ryan. I thought about it, and…well…”

I set the glasses down on the shelf. “Don’t move. I need to go grab another condom.”

“So, I’ve had an idea,” I say.

It’s four days later, and we’re walking to Briony’s parents’ house for dinner. Penny trots in front on her lead, stopping every so often to sniff a lamppost or a gate.

“Yeah?” Briony says.

“Why don’t you come to Glasgow Fight Club one night after work next week? We can practise your self-defence there. That way we might actually get somewhere wi’ it.”

She bites back a smile, which is fair enough. We’ve tried again several times since Monday, but every lesson has ended the same way—namely, with me inside her. We just can’t seem to help ourselves.

To be fair, it hasn’t only been sex these last few days. We’ve had dinner every night—twice at mine, twice at hers. We’ve watched telly with Penny wedged between us. And we’ve chatted for hours.

I’ve liked all that stuff as much as the sex. Okay, maybe that’s going a bit far, but I do like being with her. A lot.

“If you drill wi’ Niamh,” I add, “then I can stand back and watch. Means I can see what you need to work on a lot better than when I’m the one you’re grappling wi’.”

“All right,” Briony says, “count me in. Obviously, the thought of grappling with Niamh is terrifying—I saw what she was capable of at Braehead—but I would really like to see the place that made you the man you are today.”

“Aye?” I take her free hand and give it a squeeze. “Don’t worry about Niamh. She’ll go easy on you. She’s hardly gonnae end Emmy’s best pal.”