“But … but what if I hit you?”
A snort. “You’re not going to hit me.”
“How do you know?” I bristled at his amused tone.
I could get a lucky shot, or you might not see me coming.
I don’t want to hurt you.”
He favored me with another patient look.
“Um.” I glanced down at the saber in my hand. “Thirty seconds?”
He smiled, that calm, irritatingly confident smirk. “You’re not going to hit me.”