Lita isn't nearly as hard-up as she thinks she is. Rodeo takes inventory of her fist and her stance and he's not surprised that she sort of knows what to do already. She might not have ever been in a real fistfight, but she's sharp as hell and it don't take much for her to figure out what would serve her best if she was in a real fight. A squared stance, a closed fist, thumb along her index and middle finger to brace the knuckles most likely to make impact with their target. Rodeo understands that she believes the punch that knocked that heiress' tooth out was just a lucky shot, but Rodeo doesn't think so. Lita has proven herself to be remarkably capable. It's one of the things that attracts him most to her-- her mind is constantly taking measure, and Rodeo reckons she might be able to accomplish just about anything by the sheer power of her analytical reasoning. She doesn't have to have thrown down in a brawl to be able to figure out the best way to approach a fist fight, and Rodeo feels an insane urge to halt the lesson once more so he can kiss her again. He has to busy himself to fight it down, stepping back from Lita and shrugging out of his flannel. He tosses it over a nearby chair and then looks back to her, and even if he manages to stop himself from reaching for her his eyes still show the intensity of his desire for her.
"You ain't off to a bad start," he tells her as he closes his own hands to fists and assumes his stance to show her what it looks like. "Here, you wanna keep one hand up by your face-- you're ready to block a hit comin' at you this way. The hand you're throwin' with, you wanna keep it solid-- make sure you don't bend your wrist when you're followin' it through, or you're gonna roll it when you hit your target. Best to hold your fist at an angle, 'cause a face ain't flat and you're gonna want them first two knuckles makin' the impact." He waits for Lita to adjust her stance to match his, then mimes a punch for her. "Now here's the movement you want. You wanna twist with it, keep your elbows tucked close, that way you got a chain of motion drivin' the punch." Rodeo demonstrates, showing her how to rotate her body to throw force into the punch. "You don't wanna just swing your arms. You see somebody thrown' punches and they ain't movin' with 'em, you're seein' somebody who don't know what they're doin'. It's gotta be a full-body motion, see?"
As Rodeo repeats the motion along with her so she can follow his lead, he laughs at the question she asks. The lies start flowing easily, because they're so closely intertwined with the truth. "My brothers 'n I growin' up, we spent a helluva lot o' time in the gym. Wasn't much else to do 'fore we was old enough to get into the only bar in town, and my best brother, he picked it all up like he was born for it. Had to learn enough to hold my own against that fuckin' animal," Rodeo tells her. All of that is true. Hanging out in Bob's gym had been such a regular activity, Rodeo might as well have moved in along with Sarge. Rodeo picks up a focus mitt off the ground, holding it up for Lita to practice that punch with a surface to hit. "Try hittin' this. Go soft first, make sure you're landin' right, 'fore you put in the force. Anyway, fightin', it was a hobby I guess. Kept us out of trouble." That's where the lies begin. It sure as hell didn't keep them out of trouble-- it made them trouble. All that training didn't bleed out any of their aggression, only made them more dangerous when they got to venting it. And what Rodeo doesn't mention is that all the training in the world can't compare to the real-life experience he's gotten in bare-knuckle hand-to-hand, especially in Huntsville where his fists were the only weapons at his disposal most of the time. Most of what he knows he learned there, brawling for his life. Rodeo watches Lita as she throws her punches at the mitt, his eyes never leaving her as he marvels at her-- beautiful, and looking powerful as she practices that swing. "Swear I ain't some kinda secret street fighter or nothin'. Everything I know I learned by punchin' the daylights out my brothers in the ring. C'mon, baby, I know you can hit harder'n that."