I leaned against the wall of the penthouse, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. Lysander stood there, arms crossed, looking like he just walked off a runway. I shot him a challenging look. “So, you really think you can teach me to throw a punch, or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty?”

He smirked, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Pretty? Nah, I’m more of a ‘drop-dead gorgeous’ type, but I get your point.” Then, his expression turned ...