Secret Ingredient

"I'll be your partner," Drystan volunteered, surprising Ercilia and the others.

His body should really stop moving steps ahead of his brain. At this rate, everyone might find out his real intention for coming there and joining them. 

She looks over her shoulder towards the bleachers – straight at him, right in the eyes. With a brow raised, looking conflicted, she questions him, "Are you sure, Drystan? You said you'd only watch."

"What? You think you can't beat me?" he taunted, taking off his suit jacket to reveal a plain black sleeveless shirt beneath. 

"Keep talking and I'll reconsider going easy on you," she retorted, trying so hard not to stare at those huge, bulging muscles.

"Don't hold back on my account."

"I should be the one saying that."

Ercilia is a petite young woman, though. Drystan is a fit grown man. 

Not that he's underestimating her or anything. He's simply making a practical observation.