Page 19 of Punchline
The shirtless selfie from the sharp jaw down to the mouthwatering narrow hips. Pecs and abs on full display.
You’ve got to be shitting me.
Nope. That was him. Ithadto be him. Even without his face showing, I’d recognize him, because I had memorized every inch that was on display during our sessions.
Including that black and white tiger tattoo on his right arm.
Holy fuck. Itwashim!
I thumbed back to his profile, and sure enough…
Jake, 26.
For a long moment, I froze, not sure if I should swipe left and prevent us from ever crossing paths on the app, or if I should read on. I was intensely curious about him.
But would reading his profile be intrusive? I mean, it was public and all, and he’d put it out there, but still…
I chewed my lip. Then I reasoned that if I just read his bio and some of the basic stuff, that wouldn’t be crossing any lines. I’d steer clear of the tab about turn-ons and turn-offs, no matter how much I wished it was appropriate for me to know if he was a top, bottom, or vers. If he liked anal at all. If he was into any kind of kink or if he was as purely vanilla as my ex had been. None of that was any of my business unless there was a chance of us hooking up, which there was decidedlynot.
I did indulge in peeking at the rest, though.
And it didn’t help me pull my stupid head togetherat all.
New to this whole scene, both Vegas and hooking up with guys. Didn’t figure out I was bi until recently, and it took me a while to get my head around it. So I don’t really know what I’m doing. Not quite sure what I like or what I want. I guess that’s what I’m trying to figure out.
Swearing in at least three languages, I let the phone drop onto my chest again. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and sighed. Why?Why?How was it even remotely fair that the most gorgeous man I’d laid eyes on in a long time—which said something, given that I wasconstantly surrounded by naked hockey players—was queer and available?
And, if I was reading correctly between the lines, looking to explore his newly discovered sexuality?
I’d been with a couple of guys who’d very recently come out, and there was something so fun andhotabout sex with someone who wasn’t a virgin, but was new to sex with a man. The exploration, the curiosity, the newness of it all, watching him move past his shyness and gain confidence—it was amazing. A lot of guys wanted partners who had tons of experience, but some of the best sex I’d ever had had been with men who were just getting the hang of being queer.
For a hot second, I thought this would work great. Jake could teach me the finer points of fighting, and I could be his guide into sex with dudes.
Except that sounded stupid, vaguely like prostitution, super pathetic, andextrastupid because it would require Jake to be into me.
Well. This would make my next fighting lesson… interesting.
Because I was never going to be able to concentrate around Jake ever again.
CHAPTER 8
JAKE
One positive aspect of my mixed-up psyche was that, after I dropped, I usually bounced back hard and fast. It felt like being on a trampoline, with deep lows followed by exuberant highs. It was almost like what I understood bipolar disorder to be like, except my depression wasn’t considered clinical and I tended to stay level for long periods of time before careening in one direction or the other.
Right now, though, I was on an upswing and enjoying every moment of it.
“Take this seriously, dude,” Carson said with a pretend-frown on his face as he jabbed at mine. “You’re not supposed to smile in the middle of a fight.”
“Why don’t you knock it off my face then?” I dodged his flurry of punches and grinned harder. “Or can you not reach?”
“Motherfucker—” He surprised me by turning into a spinning kick that was completely atypical for him and would have taken my head off if I’d been six inches closer… and six inches shorter.
“So close,” I said. “Maybe if you throw a jump in next time.” I knew as soon as I said it that he would try it—Carson had good judgement for the most part, but he could never resist a dare. Sure enough, he came off a combo and spun into a jumping shin kick that could have been really bad for me if I wasn’t in the middle of covering and hip-checking him hard enough to knock him on his ass.
Carson hit the mat with a loudslam, and for a second I wondered if I’d gone too far. Then he started to laugh and looked over at me with a huge grin. “Dude! That’s more like it!”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I extended my hand to help him up. “More like what?”
