I watch Ben step into the sparring ring, determination etched across his face. It's been a month since his recovery, and though I told him he didn't need to push himself, he insisted. Said he wanted to make himself useful. Apparently, fighting was the way to go, and damn, he's good.
My eyes follow his movements as he faces off against Raul. The large bald man is a powerhouse, no doubt, years of experience and brute strength on his side. Ben, though, isn't getting steamrolled like I expected. He's holding his own—impressive, considering he's up against a guy I once saw hoist a tree like it was a sack of flour. I always had a feeling Ben wasn't just muscle and grit. He's got to have some sort of ability to back it up.
I suppress a yawn. Last night was... well, let's just say I may have overdone it with Noelle. Flashes of heated moments flicker in my mind, a grin tugging at my lips. I stifle it, not wanting to give anything away.
