Rough and Tumble

by Shae Connor

  I turn to reach for my towel and find myself standing three feet from an equally naked Darryn.

  Who’s staring right back at me.

  Time stretches like taffy around me as I take in every detail—broad shoulders, defined chest, six-pack abs, strong legs, and yeah, the dark hair and soft cock between his thighs.

  Time starts moving again with an almost physical jerk, and my gaze snaps back up to meet his. My face heats, but I still can’t move until finally he blinks and spins on his heel, breaking the spell. I keep myself from watching him leave, but the damage is done. I’ve seen Darryn naked before, mostly fleeting glances or from the side or back. Somehow, in the year that we’ve been teammates and roommates, I’d never managed to get a full-on, full-frontal view of Darryn until now.

  Now that I have, the image of his body is seared on my brain. I just want to live in that moment until it fills me—mind, body, and soul.

  Wrapping the towel around my waist, I silently order my dick to behave and march toward my locker, dripping all the way. I’m shivering by the time I get there, the chill having the added benefit of deflating my semi. I’m dried off and dressed in record time, and I hitch my backpack over one shoulder as I make a beeline for the door, dropping my used towel in the oversized laundry hamper on my way.

  I step into the gym only to find myself face to face with Rich.

  Yep. The universe is totally out to get me today.

  Rich looks about as pleased to see me as I am to see him. He lifts his chin toward the door. “Darryn in there?”

  “Yeah.” It’s all I can manage. I shift right to walk around him, but his next words stop me in my tracks.

  “He’s just as good in bed as you think he is.”

  It takes every ounce of willpower in my body not to turn around and slam my fist into his smarmy face. How dare this asshole talk about Darryn like that? He should have some respect for the man who’s supposed to be his boyfriend. My fingers curl into a fist, but the thought of Darryn’s reaction keeps me from pummeling the guy into a pulp. Rich is Darryn’s boyfriend, and Darryn is my friend.

  I repeat that mantra—Darryn’s my friend, Darryn’s my friend—under my breath as I ignore the asshole and stalk away. Thankfully, the asshole keeps his trap shut. One more word from him and nothing would’ve held me back. Never mind that I would’ve ended up injured, probably suspended from the team, and on the receiving end of Darryn’s fury.

  I keep myself under control, but the mental image of Rich’s bloodied and bruised face brings a grim, dark smile to my face. If I can’t mete out the damage I wish I could inflict, at least I can enjoy the idea of it.

  Chapter Four

  The rest of the week passes in the usual blur of classes, practice, studying, and sleep. Darryn surprises me by staying in our room every night, and except for the cloud of awkward hanging between us, things are pretty okay. Rich doesn’t come around the gym again, which helps keep my temper under wraps.

  That changes on Thursday. I’ve just finished my second run-through of my high bar routine and am waiting for one more shot when Rich walks in. He doesn’t come far inside, staying near the door and sweeping his gaze over the room. I know the moment he finds Darryn; he freezes, and then he scowls. I glance in the direction he’s facing and see Darryn sitting astride the horse with his hands on the pommels. Coach Everson is standing next to him, one hand laying over one of Darryn’s, and I can’t help rolling my eyes.

  Tell me this guy isn’t jealous over that?

  “Clark! You’re up!”

  Coach Sato’s shout brings me back to attention, and I step up to the bar. He gives me a boost up, and I shut out all thoughts of Rich, Darryn, and anything beyond the apparatus as I kip up into a handstand. I let my body swing low and back around the bar, letting go with one hand to make one turn and then re-grasping the bar facing the opposite direction.

  My mind rattles off the moves as my body performs them like rote—stalder, pirouette, back giant, pike, Russian giant. The Tkatchev goes perfectly, and my double-pike dismount ends in a stuck landing.

  A “yeah!” comes from somewhere behind me, and I clap my hands together, chalk dusting the air.

  “All right, Clark.” I spin to face Coach Sato. “Good job, but don’t get cocky. We’ve still got three months to get your final routine into shape before the Winter Invitational. Plenty of difficulty yet to go.”

  I give a nod, but it doesn’t slow my heart as it thumps in my chest. I know it’s not a final routine—not with months still to go until the competition that launches the official season—but that felt good. As good as I ever have on high bar, and close to how I usually feel on the floor. I wish I could bottle that and carry it around with me, like liquid luck.

  A whistle shrills. “Okay, that’s it!” Coach Everson’s voice booms across the floor. “Good workout today. Take it easy this weekend, don’t get hurt. Be ready to hit it hard again on Monday.” He grins for a hot second. “Now get outta here.”

  His obvious satisfaction with our progress buoys the team as a group as we head for the locker room. I’m a couple of feet behind Darryn, lagging behind the crowd, and I’m about to take a few long steps to draw even with him when Rich appears out of nowhere and grabs Darryn’s hand, pulling him to a stop.

  “Hey. Let’s get out of here,” he says, a pleading note in his voice that I haven’t heard before. “I don’t want to be late for tonight.”

  Darryn gives him a small smile. “I need to shower and change first.”

  “Takes too long, and I’ve got a surprise waiting.” Rich’s gaze flicks to where I’ve stopped on the other side of Darryn, and he scowls. “Besides, you never know what kind of perv might be getting himself an eyeful in the showers.”

  A shock runs through me. No way Darryn told Rich about our unplanned starefest in the showers. No way.

  Darryn doesn’t react to Rich’s provocation, just pulls his hands free. “You know it’s not like that. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Promise.”

  For a second, I think Rich is going to object, but he gives me another look and then glances toward where Coach Sato and Coach Everson are going over notes together in the middle of the gym. He takes a step back. “All right. I’ll be waiting.”

  Darryn nods and walks away. I follow, after throwing a double handful of visual daggers in Rich’s direction.

  I find Darryn at his locker, pulling his clothes out of his duffel. “What crawled up his ass and died?”

  Darryn snorts. “He made reservations for dinner, Grant. If I don’t hurry, we’ll be late.”

  He pulls off his snug tank and swipes at his skin with his towel. I hardly even notice his body, still focused on Rich’s behavior.

  “You’ve got time to shower, don’t you?” I wave a hand at the towel. “I mean, two minutes will get the sweat off so you aren’t sticky.”

  “It’s fine.” He finishes drying his face and torso, and drops the towel on the bench before reaching into his locker for a bottle of body spray. “I’ll get a shower later. Don’t make it into some big deal.”

  It sure seems like a big deal, but I’m not going to get anywhere by arguing with him. I force myself to relax and reach for my own towel. “Okay then,” I tell him, doing my best to make my voice sound teasing. “But don’t come whining to me later when you feel itchy and gross.”

  I turn toward the showers, unwilling to stand there watching Darryn strip down in front of me before heading off for a date with his boyfriend. It’s not like I need another look anyway. That view’s already permanently imprinted on my brain.

  …

  Monday afternoon, we’re only a few minutes into practice when Rich shows up again. He doesn’t approach Darryn this time, just heads over to the bleachers and takes a seat right up front. Darryn gives him a long look and then flicks his gaze over to me for just a second before he turns back to
the pommel horse. I’m up next on floor, but I spare a second to throw a withering glare in Rich’s direction before I get started.

  I feel like I’m being watched the whole time. Not like Coach or the other guys watching. Like a burn. Like if looks could kill, I’d be laid out flat.

  When I finally give up on playing dumb and look in Rich’s direction, he’s staring at me as if he expects me to spontaneously combust on the spot.

  Asshole.

  When practice finally ends, what feels like several weeks later, I end up behind Darryn on the way to the locker room. Rich heads in Darryn’s direction again, but before he gets there, Darryn’s made it into the locker room.

  Rich turns on me instead.

  “Can’t stand it, can you?” He keeps his voice low enough not to attract the attention of the coaches still standing across the gym floor. “Knowing the guy you’ve got the hots for has a real man in his bed. Not some little wannabe wimp.”

  Do not let him get to you. I bare my teeth at him in a mockery of a smile. “No real man would feel the need to goad his boyfriend’s roommate over some imagined rivalry. Darryn can think for himself.”

  I turn toward the locker room doors, but I can’t help hearing Rich’s parting shot. “He doesn’t need to. I can do the thinking for both of us.”

  The words sink in after I’m inside, and I fight off the urge to go back and confront him about it. My concern is with Darryn, not with whatever mind game Rich thinks he’s playing.

  At least this time Darryn’s not rushing out to meet Rich. He’s headed toward the showers when I get to my locker, and I decide to wait until he’s done to take my turn. No sense in tempting hormonal fate.

  I strip out of my practice uniform slowly and wrap a towel around my waist before taking a seat on the bench. I zone out, letting the noises of my teammates trading barbs and getting changed wash over me, the sound soothing after so many years.

  I lose track of time until a towel drops over my head.

  “Napping on the job, Clark?”

  “I’m on break!” The retort is out before I even realize who I’m talking to. “Oh.” I sit up straighter. “Hey, Coach.”

  Coach Everson smirks down at me. “When you’re back in street clothes, come by my office. Nothing bad,” he adds, this time with a quick grin. “Just a couple of questions for you.”

  I nod. “Sure thing, Coach.”

  He turns on his heel, and as he walks away, I finally drag myself to my feet and head toward the showers. If Darryn’s still in there, I’ll have to live with it.

  Just as I reach the doorway, though, Darryn passes me on his way out. He flashes me a fleeting smile, and I do my best to return it just as fleetingly and without staring at his bare chest.

  Dammit. This is driving me crazy, and not only because I’m attracted to him. I miss the easy friendship we had before this whole mess got dropped in between us.

  I shower on autopilot, and in minutes I’m back at my locker getting dressed. Darryn’s long gone by then, and I force my mind away from thinking about who he’s with and what he’s doing. I finish dressing, shove my dirty gear into my gym bag, and slam my locker shut before heading toward Coach’s office.

  The school’s athletic facilities are new, like everything in a college that’s only a few years old, but that doesn’t mean they’re spacious. Coach Everson’s office has room for his desk, a couple of guest chairs, and TV setup for watching tapes. Coach Sato’s office is a glorified coat closet, and even that description’s generous.

  I knock on the doorframe, and Coach doesn’t look up from the paper in his hand as he waves me toward one of the chairs. I push the door shut behind me just in case. Even if it’s not anything bad, it might not be anything I want to be overheard.

  “I have a proposal for you. Bob Wheeler and I were talking a few days ago about starting a student coaching program.”

  The athletic director is in on this? I sit up straighter, suddenly feeling as if I’m interviewing for a job.

  “You did a good job with Kenny the other day,” Coach continues, “and I know you talked about wanting to coach. Do you think you might be interested in something like that?”

  I nod. “I would, sir. What did you have in mind?”

  Coach leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “We’re still working out specifics. And it would likely be for upperclassmen only, so you’d have to be at least a junior to qualify. But Coach Sato and I both did some student coaching work in undergrad, and we think it’s a good program.”

  “I think it would be great,” I reply. “Good experience for the students, on both sides, and great for the program as a whole.” I’m mostly talking out of my ass, but it sounds good, so I press on. “I’d definitely be interested in applying for next year.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Coach grins. “My job is to feel out enthusiasm among our students. It probably would be opened to the other sports programs, too. I can’t guarantee we’d have a spot for you if we do a pilot program next year.”

  “I understand.” At least we don’t have a football program to fend off. Baseball, softball, tennis, swimming, diving, and gymnastics. Small school, small athletic department.

  “Thanks, Clark.” Coach leans forward. “I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us for now.” He reaches for a folder on his desk. “Now get out of here.”

  “Sure thing, Coach.”

  I’m up and out the door before I realize it, excitement buzzing in my stomach and making me bounce on my toes like I’m on the floor exercise mat. When I leave the locker room, the only people in sight are the custodial crew, working on cleaning up after a bunch of messy college students. One of the guys gives me a smile and a “You have a good day, now,” and I smile back as I hit the outside door.

  I head toward my dorm, steps still light, the smile refusing to leave my face—at least, until I think of Darryn.

  My steps slow. I have no idea if Darryn will be in the room when I get back, though I’d lay odds that he’s off with Rich somewhere. That’s probably a good thing, because it’ll give me time to come down from my giddiness. Then I’ll be less likely to blurt out what Coach asked me to keep to myself.

  It’ll also give me way too much time to think too much about what, exactly, Darryn and Rich are doing right now.

  Damn, my life is a freaking rollercoaster. I just hope it doesn’t decide to jump the tracks.

  …

  When Darryn gets back to the room that night, he’s practically glowing, and it makes me want to throw things. Preferably at Rich’s head.

  “Hey.” I keep my voice neutral. Ish.

  “Hey.” Darryn doesn’t seem to notice anything. He tosses his gym bag on his bed and opens the second drawer of his dresser, digging out a loose pair of shorts. “You up for a study session tonight? I stayed with Rich too long and need to get caught up on some reading.”

  “Sure.” I was only watching videos on my phone anyway. “Why did…I mean, what had you hung up with Rich?”

  I don’t choke on the name, but it’s a close thing. Darryn smiles wider. “I’m happy that he came to watch practice today. It’s the first time he’s shown a real interest in my gymnastics.”

  My face screws up at that. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Darryn’s still smiling as he strips off his jeans and pulls on the shorts. “He’s usually grumbling about me going to practice because he wants to be with me.”

  “That’s kinda…um, weird?” I can’t quite articulate what I mean. The way Darryn stiffens and his smile slips, though, I better figure it out fast. “I mean, it’s a couple of hours a day. Is he afraid to let you out of his sight?”

  And that was the totally wrong thing to say. Darryn’s face goes dark. “He wants to be with me,” he snaps. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Jealousy isn’t a good look for you.”


  I have to fight hard against the automatic urge to lash out in return. Yeah, I’m jealous, but that’s not why this is bothering me. I still can’t figure out how to say why it’s bothering me, though, and it’s pretty clear Darryn’s not going to listen anyway.

  “That came out wrong,” I say instead. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re glad, okay?”

  It’s clearly not okay, but Darryn’s apparently willing to make the same effort I am, not to have a screaming match over it. He visibly relaxes. “Okay.” He gives me a look somewhere between placating and pleading. “I know this isn’t easy, okay? I don’t expect you to be happy about it.”

  I bark out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure happy is the furthest from how I feel about it.”

  His gaze drops. “I can imagine.”

  And it hits me then that he can imagine. What if this whole thing were reversed? He’d been crushing on me almost as long as I’d been crushing on him. What if I’d been the one to start dating someone else and Darryn had been the one left behind?

  I get a twinge of vindictive glee at the thought—schadenfreudelicious!—but I quash that fast. I’m not that much of an asshole.

  “Yeah.” My voice is soft. “I guess I just wish things were different.”

  Darryn nods. “I get that. But here we are.” He blows out a breath and grabs a book off his desk. “And on that note, I really have to get this reading done tonight. Dr. Chopra never tells us outright when he’s planning a quiz, but he loves to drop big hints. ‘Might want to get your reading done tonight instead of putting it off until the weekend again,’ stuff like that.”

  “Helpful.” I reach for my own backpack where it sits next to my bed. “Studying, huh? I remember that. Something freshmen do, right?”

  Darryn barks out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure we were the only freshmen who ever put studying ahead of partying. Or at least the only ones in our class.”

  “Kept us on the team,” I point out in our defense as I crack open my anthropology book. “Some guys weren’t as lucky.” We had only one teammate suspended for low grades, but I know several more got kicked off other teams. U of A’s athletic programs are small enough that we all pretty much know each other, and gossip travels fast.