When Derek had cracked his knuckles, Emily had known that it was game on. And then he'd had the nerve to smirk at her like she had already lost. And Emily's inner warrior had risen to the surface. There was just no way, absolutely no way, that she would be beaten by this man.
So instead of feeling a surge of fear, she felt a surge of bloodlust. And as he had slammed his fist into his open palm, she had done the same with her own. And now they were going at it.
"Give up Emily. You are never going to win at this. I am the best there is," Derek was saying. But Emily was barely paying any attention to him. "You know Derek, for someone whom I recall wiping the floor with back in that creepy motel in that small town, you are very talkative about skills that you do not have," He quieted, and it was Emily's turn to smirk.
Good.
Her trash talk still carried some weight.
