Page 24 of Man On

His scent surrounds me, even after I rinse it all off. I try washing my hair a second time with my Irish Spring shampoo, but the cologne of the other stuff won't wash away. It's assaulting all of my senses, forcing my body to react.

I look down at my erection. Stare at it, really. For far too long. Wishing it would go away.

It’s not that I think anything bad is going to happen to me. Every book and article on human anatomy and sexuality I've read, that isn't sponsored by a church, says that masturbation is normal and healthy. I get that. But I still have my grandfather's voice in my ear, telling me I'm immoral. Bad. Wrong. That I’m going to burn in hell for all eternity.

It kind of ruins the mood.

I could count on one hand the number of times I succumbed to the thoughts and feelings that plagued me until the day Noah pushed me. After that first time, I never did it without him forcing me to. Because it gave me an excuse. It wasn’t my choice to be bad.

My hand wraps around my shaft, and I stroke it tentatively, but stop. There's no point. I'm only going to frustrate myself, and then spend too long deep diving into erectile dysfunctions on the internet. I can get hard and stay hard, all day. But I haven't been able to finish since the night of the graduation party, in a stranger's pantry of all places. With him.

"It won't happen again."

I lean my forehead on the wall of the shower and focus on my breaths. The water turns cold. Too cold. And the spray starts to feel different. It’s sharp against my skin and takes me to places I don't want to think about.

Quickly shutting the water off, I towel off and walk to my room to get dressed. Just as I'm pulling on some sweatpants, I hear the apartment door open.

"You didn't go to dinner with the team?" I ask, stepping outside my bedroom to watch him lug in a large box.

"Nah, I wasn't feeling it. Plus, I had a delivery."

"I see that. What is it?"

"Um… Well, come here, I'll show you."

Noah tips the box and dumps out two rolled up foam mats, some blocks, and a bunch of what look like large rubber bands. He grins at my confused face.

"I thought we could try yoga," he says with the confidence of a guy who rarely gets turned down for anything. "I watched several YouTube videos last night, so I’m basically an expert. And I downloaded a meditation track for after, too."

I'm pretty sure my mouth is catching flies. My brow is pulled in so tight, last night's headache is threatening to make a reappearance. "Why?"

"The internet says that stretching and meditation are healthy coping skills."

I immediately bristle, my entire face and body tensing. He said we'd figure it out. He's trying to help. With some effort, I smooth out my features and try to look less like an ungrateful asshole.

"You really don't have to do this."

Noah shrugs. "It'll be good for both of us. All the biggest soccer pros do yoga."

"Did you read that on the internet too?"

"Actually, yes. Yoga is proven to improve balance, speed, and endurance."

"Proven, eh?"

"It's science. And it's good to do after a workout, because it gets you all stretched out and whatnot. So, come on, help me move this coffee table and we'll spread the mats out here."

"Are you sure there's enough room?"

He doesn't look confident at all that there will be, but we come up with a plan. He puts his mat in front of the couch facing the TV, and I put mine at an angle between the sitting room and the eating area.

"If you weren't such a damn giant, there'd be plenty of room."

"Aren't you taller than me?"

"Yeah, but you're like three of me wide. I don't know how you fit into that little phone booth shower. Why don't you just use the shower rooms? Not like you've got anything to be embarrassed about…" he trails off when he realizes the conversation has taken a turn for the inappropriate. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Anyone would notice. Not in, like, that way.” Eyes wide, he huffs. “I'm just making this worse, aren't I?"

"Little bit," I say, trying not to laugh. I'm just glad he distracted himself from his question.

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