"Why do you want anything to do with me?" Nash asked, his steely blue eyes narrowed into slits.
"I don't know," I murmured. "Maybe, if I knew, I wouldn't. But I don't, and I'm here, now."
Being told to stay away from someone is like being told to not play with fire. You always play with it anyway, but you always get burned in the end.
Seb Maris always liked to fight, using a punching bag rather than a sparring partner. She never liked the idea of being punched, just the idea of hitting.
When she found out that the guy who annoyed her to no end shared the same interest, minus the fear of being hit, he began teaching her. She wondered where those skills of his came in handy, because the punching bag couldn't hone his skills that much.
Maybe she shouldn't have wondered, after all.
(revised version will begin shortly as a new book)