I turned his head to the side and stretched his neck. His hair was damp and curly from the steam and kind of a dark-carrot color. It was neat how unusual it was. My own hair was just a plain dark brown. “I think it’s really great that a guy like you has a major goal to get physically fit. I mean, once you get out of school and into the work world, it gets much harder. It really pays to start out in good shape.”
“What do you mean a guy like me?” Sometimes, he had bristles like a hedgehog.
I turned his head the other way and stroked the tendons in his neck. “You know, a super smart dude with a big future. You could easily just rest on your brains, but having a fit body is part of keeping your brain healthy.” I tapped his back. “Sit up and let me get at your shoulders from a different angle.”
What happened next would’ve had me rolling on the freaking steam room floor if I didn’t have a bunch of self-control. Sean shifted his soggy towels up, down and sideways, placing one while he grabbed another one to keep it from falling, then repeating the juggling act all over again. I guess he was trying to keep me from seeing any part of his body. Poor guy, if that’s how people felt when they were wimpy, it’d be a good thing to get this dude fit. Hell, imagine being embarrassed about your body—especially a guy like Sean, who could do anything he wanted in life. It didn’t make sense he should be ashamed of anything.
He finally managed to get himself sitting with a couple towels draped over his lower half and another one he held against his chest. I slid my palms over his shoulders and pressed his head sideways. He cleared his throat. “I really appreciate what you said about my being smart. I might submit that you don’t have sufficient empirical evidence to support that opinion.”
God, the man cracked me up. As if the way he talked wasn’t proof enough!
“You’re a science major, right?” I said.
“Genetics and Genomics. It’s the study of DNA, genome sequencing, and how to manipulate organic life. There’s no more fascinating field on the planet.”
“Sheesh! I rest my case.” I pulled back on his shoulders gently and noticed significantly less restriction in the tissue and tendons than when we’d started.
He said, “I should probably tell you, however, that I’m not undertaking this out of concern for my health.”
“Oh?” I pulled back again in one last stretch.
“No. I said I’d do flag football because my house needed a volunteer, and they offered to comp my room for the rest of the year. But also because I made a resolution to get into better shape, and I thought volunteering for flag would force me to do so.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong there.
“My goal,” he continued, “is to increase my appeal so I can attract a man with an interest in taking my virginity.”
My hands stopped moving, I sucked in two lungs full of hot steam through my open mouth and burst into a fit of coughing.
A half hour later, we’d both showered, and Sean promised to take a slow walk to get to his class. As for me, I had Physiology of Exercise, one of my fave courses, but not for forty-five minutes. I bundled up in the heavy coat I kept in my locker to keep my muscles warm and started walking.
So Sean had, uh, social reasons for getting fit. It was a good enough excuse. Hell, half the people who worked out did it just to get laid. But flag football too? Playing on the ALA flag team was hard. Why would he want to give himself that much grief?
Wait. I stopped in midstride. Maybe he was thinking he could catch an ALA? Or not catch exactly, but, you know, fuck. No, there weren’t any gay guys in ALA but Rand. And Sean with Rand? No way.
Still, funny how the idea of Sean with some guy made me feel weird. I mean, he could end up with some axe murderer. But that wasn’t fair. I was Sean’s personal trainer, and I needed to help him reach his goals no matter what they were. Probably, though, getting a guy wasn’t too different from getting a girl, and that took way more than physical fitness. I sure knew that first hand. Girls liked my muscles, but they didn’t stick around long.
I sighed. You had to start somewhere. We could begin on Sean’s body. And if he needed other skills, maybe I could help him out there too. He sure seemed inexperienced. At least I’d been around some even if I hadn’t had a serious relationship.
I’d been standing in the middle of the sidewalk like a giant statue, so I started walking toward class again. One thing for sure. I was Sean’s personal trainer, and I needed to be certain he didn’t make a mistake.
Chapter Five
Sean
I crossed my arms over my chest and surveyed the guys lined up on the field. They were all A-hoes except for me and Dustin, the other Sigma Mu Tau brother to be assigned to the flag-football team. It had snowed last night, which apparently was not enough to call off a practice game. The football field had an inch of fluffy frozen H2O, which also apparently was completely acceptable. I tried not to worry about slipping or about losing toes to frostbite since they were already numb inside my soaked trainers.
Tray spoke up. “Today’s the first practice with both our new team members—Hedgehog and Dustin. So Bubba had the idea to use these.” He produced handfuls of bandanas in red and navy blue from a bag. “Listen, yo. My team is blue.” He started handing out blue bandanas.
One of the A-hoes groaned. “Do we seriously have to fucking wear these? We have two colored flags this time.”
Another said, “If it was Bubba’s idea, you know it’s bad.” He laughed.
“Stuff it, Rex,” Bubba said loudly. “The new guys don’t know us yet. In a game, we’d have on uniforms. Wearing bandanas will make the teams more visible, and it won’t kill you.”
“Bubba’s right. Do you want to win the championship or be a snowflake?” Tray snarked.
Rex took the bandana.
“Now. Dustin is on my team, and Bubba has to take—I mean, he’s got Hedgehog.”
“Sean,” Bubba said. He grabbed red bandanas from the bag, gave me one, tossed the others to various guys who were presumably on our team, then tied one around his head. It made him look like an 18th-century pirate. It was rather dashing. I made a mental note to tell him that later. It would make him laugh.
“Yeah, Sean. Whatever,” said Tray, not looking at me. “Newbies, watch and learn. Does anyone not know the rules of the game at this point?”
Now he looked at me. I raised my chin. I’d studied the rules online and watched games on YouTube, from start to finish, even though they were mind-numbingly tedious and more complex than Bubba had made out.
“Fine. Then let’s do it.”
Everyone jogged toward the center of the snowy field. I forced my feet to follow. I didn’t want to be there. After my humiliating mistake two weekends ago, running the wrong way, I practically had a LOSER sign hanging over my head. The disdain from the other players was palpable. And I was tired, sore, and achy too. In fact, I’d been so sore last weekend, Bubba had made me skip practice. He was proving to be highly conscientious, not to mention well-informed. He’d met with me every day for the past two weeks for training. We’d done shoulders, back, arms, legs, butt, abs. Currently, my stomach was as tender as an infected tooth from doing thirty sit-ups. I had to remember not to tense that area—and winced in pain when I forgot.