Stunt Doubled: A Movie Star Standalone

When we were both ready, we faced off. My blood pumped strongly through my veins and my senses were heightened as I shifted my weight from my front foot to the back one. Ford danced around me, his gloves up. I almost grinned. The anticipation was half the fun—kind of like foreplay. Though if he wiped the floor with me, I would probably see things differently.

“Ladies first,” Ford said, spreading his arms and inviting me to take a shot.

If that’s what he wanted, that’s what he’d get. I bounced closer to him and then led with a right cross, but I wasn’t close enough. Ford took a half step backwards and I missed—or so he thought. I swung around with the momentum of the punch and shot out my foot when I was facing away, landing a back kick on his stomach.

Ford grunted as I spun away, but I suspected it was more from surprise than from anything else. “Nice one,” he said.

We danced around the ring again, moving toward and away from each other. He got a few punches in, but I was able to block them until he sneaked an upper cut past me that would’ve landed on my ribs if he hadn’t pulled it at the last moment. “Not bad,” I said, trying not to pant. Whoever invented the concept of elevation should be shot.

We sparred for a few more minutes and then I tried a foot sweep, hoping to take him down, but he jumped out of the way. “We should’ve taken off our shoes,” he said as he neared again. “I didn’t know you knew any kicks.”

“Some,” I said, breathing harder. I got past his defense and landed a blow on his bicep, but it was like hitting steel cables. He took the hit and responded with a jab that struck just under my left breast. I was kind of glad he wasn’t using anything near full-strength for that one. “Can you do a 360 roundhouse kick?”

“Yes.”

“A tornado kick?”

“Of course. That’s all part of my job.”

“A 540 spinning hook kick?”

Ford shook his head. “Do you memorize the name of every taekwondo kick in your free time?”

“Can I see you do the spinning hook kick?” I’d seen videos, but I’d never seen anyone jump in the air and twist their body that way in real life.

“Not without getting knocked out.”

I frowned but didn’t lower my guard. “I thought you were supposed to be able to make it look real even though it’s not.”

“But that takes two trained stunt people. One who knows exactly how to make the strike and one who knows how to dodge it.”

“And it still looks real?”

“From the right camera angle, yes.”

“Can you show me how it works?”

“Now?” He stopped bouncing on the balls of his feet, but he kept his defense up. “Does that mean you forfeit the match?”

I thought about it. I wanted to wipe the floor with him, but I could admit that he was a bit out of my league. At least in terms of fighting. “Sure. But can I have a rematch at a lower elevation someday?”

“Shit, I keep forgetting you’re still acclimating to the thinner air up here. Good match, though.” He tapped his gloves against mine and then took his off. “Let’s get you some water.”

He started to walk off, but I called him back. “If you helped me take the gloves off, then I could get it myself.” What was he planning to do, feed me the bottle like an infant?

It was a relief to have the tight gloves removed. I shook my arms out, trying to get the blood flowing back in my fingers. Then I took out the mouthguard and put it in what seemed to be a ‘used’ pile on the table. Gross.

“Here.” Ford gave me a bottle of water. I took a big gulp. “You know, that wasn’t too bad.”

God, the cold water tasted good on my dry throat. “Thanks. I’ve been drinking water for years.”

“Smartass. I meant your sparring.”

“It’s fun,” I said. “Good cardio, and strategic, too. A bit like a chess match. But I never was disciplined enough to work consistently on one fighting style.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s good to be open to anything.” Though the statement could’ve sounded dirty, he’d said it sincerely.

We walked as we talked, and Ford paused by the steps that led up to the platform that he’d pretended to fall off of the other day. He leaned against the railing as he looked at me. “Maybe some days when my schedule’s not too full, I could teach you a few things.”

My pulse, which had been slowing, increased as I looked at him. “Like martial arts?”

He nodded. “But the stunt versions of them. How to make it look like the real deal.”

Oh. My face must’ve shown my disappointment.