Page 87 of Forever We Fall

I’m amped in a way I don’t quite understand. My opponents were beasts, and my matches weren’t foregone conclusions, but I won.

The fifty-seven-kilo guys are the smallest in weight class and are often the most exciting to watch. They weigh as much as my right leg. They have damn near zero percent body fat. They are fast and scrappy as hell.

I read the shift a split second before he makes it, flipping and cradling his opponent in a fraction of a second.

The ref blows the whistle.

Willoughby Ridge sweeps the meet.

Screams erupt from the stands.

I run onto the mat, grab Jentry Colbard by the waist, and lift him onto my shoulder. His face is split with a huge smile, and his fists are in the air. I’m tackled from behind a second later, but I don’t fall to the ground. We’re surrounded by our team.

Sweaty bodies jump against me, jostling us. I punch the air with my fist and feel like we’ve won the damn championship.

We’re only three tournaments into the season. It’s going freaking well, though. We swept our last tourney too.

“Holy shit, Jent! That was awesome,” someone hollers.

“Hota!” another teammate screams in my face and pounds his fists against my chest.

I scream my delight. I’m on top of a mountain.

And then I look into the stands.

Arlo is on his feet. His head is craned in a hoot. He claps, his thick arms flying through the air with a strength I need around me. My mouth waters, and my dick goes hard in my singlet.

It’s been a couple of months since Miss Booth came inside my room in more ways than one. Since then, nothing.

We sleep in the same bed every night. We eat together. We work out together, do homework, and play footy together. And that’s it.

Henry, another bigger guy on the team, grabs Jent from me and puts him on his shoulders. Coach is shaking players by the shoulders and smacking their cheeks in celebration.

I’ve waited and waited for Arlo to stay in bed one day and take care of his insistent morning, afternoon, or evening wood.

Every day, I’ve been disappointed.

Maybe that’s why I’m amped and ready to toss guys like I haven’t had practice every day this week and a tournament.

“Fucking amazing!” Nate clamps a hand on my nape and jostles me about.

“Yeah, it is!” I holler back over the energetic crowd.

“You’re vying for my captain's position,” he says into my ear, so I can hear.

“Am not! I don’t want it!” I shake my head.

“You don’t?” he bellows. His brow arches. “I know how much you like control.”

Warmth spreads through my body, despite the pep talk I’ve had with myself every day for the last two and a half months since Arlo suggested what he suggested.

“Only in certain situations.” I swallow.

My gaze swings back to Arlo in the stands, and curiosity gets the better of me.

Will Arlo come out of his shell with Nate between us?

I look Nate in the eyes, my smile falling from my face. He goes stony and serious too. His grip on my neck tightens.

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