“And wrestling isn’t?”
Rory gasped theatrically. “Spoken like a true football snob.”
I chuckled. “I’m not a football snob. Well, maybe a little, but I like other sports too.”
“Name your top five.”
“Football, baseball, hockey, basketball, and soccer. What about you?”
“Wrestling, boxing, tennis, curling—what are you laughin’ at?” he asked with a faux scowl.
“No one says curling.”
“Well, they should. It’s awesome.”
“Pushing a rock on ice is slightly less than awesome,” I snarked.
“Hmph. Some might say the same about throwing a ball up a field and getting tackled,” he countered.
“Millions of fans would disagree with your sarcasm.”
Rory huffed. “Yeah, well, just because something is popular doesn’t make it good.”
I gasped in faux outrage. “I’m sorry, did you bring me here to trash my sport?”
“No, I wanted an excuse to roll around on top of you,” he deadpanned. “And I think we should place a side bet to see who gets hard first.” He held up his forefinger and grinned. “Let’s make this interesting. Whoever pops a boner first has to do whatever the winner says.”
“No way. I’ll be the one who gets arrested for public indecency and that will not be my ‘coming-out’ story,” I assured him haughtily.
“When the time comes, I can’t wait to hear your story. But don’t worry…I expect better than an X-rated wrestling match. We’ll be discreet. When I win, I won’t jump up and down and point at the flagpole between your legs.” He winked before clapping and taking a step backward. “You ready?”
“Okay, but what are the rules?” I squatted with my hands on my knees the way I might if I was at the line of scrimmage on a football field waiting for the ref to blow the whistle.
“My boy likes rules,” Rory said with a grin.
I lifted an eyebrow in amusement. “Your boy?”
“Yeah. You’re mine. Don’t argue.”
I held his gaze for a long moment and then smiled. “Okay.”
“The first person to pin their opponent to the mat is the winner. In a real match, you can earn points for either taking me down or escaping my hold if I take you down first. And not to get too technical here, but there are penalty points too. Same idea as football. No unnecessary roughness, no grabbing clothes, leaving the mat, delaying the match. It’s all pretty standard.”
I straightened and gave him a serious look. “Got it, but you have to watch out for my shoulder and don’t touch my right hand. You’re strong and I can’t get hurt.”
“Christian, I’m not going to hurt you. That’s not the idea. It’s exercise. Energy release. It might not be your way, but I wanted to show you this because it’s always helped me.”
“How?”
“I can tell you’re stalling again, but I’ll play along,” Rory said with an exaggerated sigh. “I had ADHD and probably a few other things that didn’t get picked up when I was a kid…food allergies, social anxiety, and I couldn’t sit still. You name it, I had it. A doctor eventually prescribed drugs that were supposed to help my concentration. The medication sort of worked, but it was expensive and when my mom couldn’t afford it anymore, one of the counselors here suggested diet and exercise changes. Justin and I were regulars at the after-school program already. They knew us pretty well, and no one was surprised I didn’t do as well at team sports. In a weird way, I’m a perfectionist and I couldn’t handle not being in charge.” Rory paused and gave me a quirky grin. “Kinda like you.”
“Ha. Ha. So that’s when you found wrestling?”
“Yeah. Not immediately. I tried karate, boxing, tennis, but I liked wrestling best. There was a class here every day, and wait for it…I had a wicked crush on one of the student instructors,” Rory admitted with a laugh.
I smiled. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen, I think. His name was Nelson. He was tall but kinda thick with brown hair, brown eyes. He wasn’t super hot or anything, but he was nice and very patient.”
“Was he your first boyfriend?”
“No. He was straight as an arrow. It was a completely platonic relationship.” Rory squinted and gave me a funny look. “And now I have no idea why I told you all that. Probably ’cause you’re always asking me personal questions.”
“I am not!”
“Sure you do. Which was your first tattoo? Are you gonna pierce your cock? What are you making for dinner tonight? Geez, it’s like I’m under a magnifying glass,” he griped good-naturedly.
I threw my head back and laughed hard enough to attract a few curious glances. “Those are not personal questions. Well, maybe the piercing one is, but…” I furrowed my brow and set my hands on my hips. “Are you really going to pierce your dick?”
“Fuck, no!” He snorted. “But that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“Honestly, I don’t remember. I was going for a correlation between our sports. Offense versus defense. A quarterback plays the lead offensive position in football. You’re almost never on defense. In wrestling, you’re on your own, just like in real life. You’ve got to play both sides all the time. And correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that you play offense on the field and defense in real life.” Rory paused to gauge my reaction to his very astute observation. When I didn’t argue, he continued. “In wrestling, you fight like crazy to get some asshole off of you and the next, you’re on top. Your opponent knows without seeing your face that you call the shots. He can feel your strength and energy and he can probably feel your dick too.”