I nodded toward the front door, and we walked toward the clubhouse side by side. “You met via kickboxing?”
“Well, I was getting my ass kicked behind a diner,” Dante said with a fond, nostalgic smile. “I was always big, so sometimes I got a little overconfident and ran my mouth to the bullies too much. Tru heard the commotion and kicked one of the guys off me so hard it scared the other two away. Then he proceeded to make fun of me endlessly for being so much bigger than them but unable to defend myself.”
“And that’s how you became friends?” I asked as we stepped into the clubhouse. The common area was empty—everyone who was attending was already gathered in the basement. “An ass-kicking?”
“He took pity on me,” Dante said with a laugh. “He dragged me straight to his dojo. We’ve been training together ever since.”
“You must know a lot,” I said.
“Eh, I know a little bit about a lot of things,” Dante said. “Which is good for self-defense. I’ve tried out a lot of styles, but Tru’s really loyal to Muay Thai.”
“He must be good.”
“Pretty good at sparring,” Dante clarified. “He’s iffy on most other things.”
“Jazz has been teaching me,” I said. “Not Muay Thai. More like… It’s not really a style. Just things he picked up in jail.”
“Honestly, that’s probably the most effective style there is,” Dante said. “Everyone downstairs?”
I nodded.
“All right, that’s good. Everyone ready to go.” Dante rubbed the back of his neck, and then glanced at his watch. “And we’re on schedule still. Good. Gotta make a good first impression.”
Huh. It was hard for me to imagine a way in which Dante wouldn’t make a good first impression, with how tall and muscular and friendly he was (even if I hadn’t gotten that impression the first couple times I’d met him. Obviously I was in the minority). Something about seeing the little edge of nervousness in him made me like him even more. Because he wanted this to go well, too. It made him a little less intimidating, a little more real.
“Right,” was all I said, because I didn’t think I was in any position to reassure him, and led him downstairs.
Jazz, Siren, Tex and Joker were idling around on the mats: Siren leaned back on her hands and laughed at something Jazz said, while Tex rolled his eyes. Joker was only paying attention halfway, his eyes focused more on Dante as he descended the stairs.
“Hey, guys,” Dante said. “Thanks for waiting. Let me change real quick and we’ll get started.”
He nodded at his gym bag pointedly and slipped into the locker room.
Everyone nodded back, and I dropped onto the mats a little ways away from the other members, a little closer to the locker room door. I chewed on the edge of my thumbnail as I waited. I was definitely not straining my ears to hear the barely there rustle of clothes hitting the floor over the chatter of conversation. That would be creepy, and pathetic, and weird.
Talking to Dante was distracting enough. What if he came out in some tight t-shirt and sweatpants that hugged his ass? I might not be able to focus on the content of the class at all. I was going to struggle enough already.
“Oh, shit,” Joker said, overly casual. “Forgot my hand wraps.”
He stood up from the group, and then shot me a wink as he followed Dante into the locker room. My heart dropped hard to my feet.
The conversation stopped. Siren, Tex, and Jazz glanced at the locker room, and then at me. Oh, hell, no. This wasn’t part of my chaperoning duties. And yet… the thought of Joker proposing something to Dante—or worse, teasing him with that cold demeanor he sometimes took on—made me want to follow them in there.
Maybe this was part of my job as chaperone. If Joker made Dante uncomfortable, well, that wasn’t good for club relations, was it?
But what if he didn’t make Dante uncomfortable? What if Dante was interested?
That made my stomach turn even more. And for what? Joker wasn’t my favorite person, sure, but he and Dante were both grown adults. They could do whatever they wanted. It was none of my business.
…Unless it was. Unless I made it my business.
Jazz raised his eyebrows and nodded pointedly at the door to the locker room.
Well. I didn’t have to go in there guns blazing. I could just… interrupt. Make sure Joker wasn’t being an asshole. And if he