Rhett laughs as he strips to head to the shower. “I didn’t mean that you should pressure her. I was thinking more along the lines of wooing her a little. Charm her. Show her what it would be like to date you. I know you’re a giant, but I also know underneath all that muscle there’s a big-hearted guy looking for a woman to love and treat right.” He leaves me with that thought and heads to the showers.
My stomach clenches in response to his words. He’s right. I am looking for a woman I can love. The women I dated in the past weren’t interested in settling in a small town like Tuft Swallow, and I knew if I wanted to build my gym and raise my family here, I’d probably have better luck finding a life partner in Tuft Swallow than I would in a city like Las Vegas. I couldnever live with myself if a woman agreed to move here to make me happy, and then she spent the rest of her life miserable and full of resentment.
But Tina seems to like it here.
But that’s not the only reason I’m interested in her. She’s amazing. If she’s in the room, I have a hard time keeping my eyes off her. When she’s not in the room, I have a hard time concentrating on anything else.
And then there’s what happened last night. The way she pulled my hair and rode my face with such wild abandon? That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. All I could think was she was right, and if any man died while she was on top of him like that, hewoulddie a happy man.
AndI better stop that line of thought right now, or I’ll never get out of this change room. I can’t go strolling up to Peter with a hard-on, saying I’m ready for my lesson. He would kill me, and not because he’d care if he were next to a man who had an erection. No, he’d kill me for not showing cornhole the respect it deserves.
To Peter, disrespecting the game of cornhole is the gravest of insults. One that will send him walking out of here in a huff, instead of sticking around to help me with my cornhole game like I pay him for. And I need the help. Badly.
There’s also the fact that having a hard-on with no relief in sight can get more than a little uncomfortable. I hunch over on the bench and take deep breaths.Puppies that are too skinny, lonely senior citizens buying a suspicious amount of canned cat food, parents who abandon their kids.With a few minutes of focus on some of the more unpleasant things I’ve encountered in the world, my hard-on subsides, so I strip and take myself to the shower. As long as I don’t dwell on thoughts of Tina, I’ll make it through my day without much hardship.
With only minutes to spare, I get dressed and head out to set up for my lesson with Peter. I’m already setting up the board at the far end of the gym when he arrives.
“Ready to get this show on the road? I don’t have all day to dilly dally.”
I chuckle at his abruptness. You’d think I was making him clean toilets for how distasteful he finds it here. I mean, I know I suck at cornhole, but the gym is still nice. And he seems to enjoy the snacks we provide in the staff room. After my lesson, he usually finds a reason to stick around. There must be something big going on today if he’s in a rush to get out of here. And figuring out what it is sounds like exactly what I need to distract me from the ever present thoughts of Tina.
“Oh? Why’s that? You got a big date?”
Instead of the disgruntled protest I’m expecting, Peter gives a half-hearted laugh and looks away, but not before I catch the grin on his face. He clears his throat with a phlegmy cough. “Never you mind what I’m up to, you overgrown oaf. Better you concentrate on your throw than worry about what I’m doing with my time. I’m not the one who can’t toss a bean bag to save his life.”
“Oh, yeah. You bet,” I say with an exaggerated nod. “So... what’s her name?”
“I-I-I... Never mind. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this, and refuse to mess it up by telling tales now.”
Holy shit. He can’t be talking about... No. Not after all this time. Unless... “Peter? Is ither?”
Peter’s head snaps in my direction and suddenly he can’t keep the smile off his face. “Shhh.” He puts a finger to his mouth to shush me. “Don’t jinx it.”
Impulsively, I pull Peter in for a hug. He clears his throat aggressively, and I pat his back before releasing him. “That’s fantastic. But how?”
He shrugs, his smile back on his face. “She moved into Spring Chickens a couple of weeks ago. One thing led to another until the other night, when we were sharing a pot of tea after dinner, we talked. Nick,” he says, his smile even bigger now, “it was like no time had passed.”
“That’s wonderful, Peter. But—and please tell me to piss off if I’m way out of line here—what about what happened after the championship? I thought she chose your rival after he beat you?”
The glare Peter sends my way could strip paint. But after a moment, he softens. “It was a different time,” he says by way of explanation. “I won’t go into details, because Sarah wouldn’t want that, but suffice it to say, she had no other choice.”
“Sarah? As in, Sarah from the seniors’ class, Sarah?”
Peter nods. I was wondering why he’d started coming to the class. Looks like he was getting closer to the love of his life.
After the stories I’d heard, and from what I’ve learned about Peter these last few months, I wouldn’t have expected he’d be the kind of man to forgive so readily. After all, he’d sworn off the sport he’d become a champion in and refused to marry at all after this Sarah woman had broken his heart. Whatever reason she had to up and leave him the way she did must’ve been a doozy. And whatever it was, it’s none of my business. If Peter accepts it and has forgiven her, that’s enough for me. I’m just happy he’s found love finally.
“I’m thrilled for you, Peter.”
“Thanks, kid.” His eyes get misty as he looks off into the distance.
I watch him struggle to bring the grumpy look back to his face and barely manage to contain my laughter. If he needs to be a tough guy to coach, then let him be a tough guy.
“That’s enough about me. Let’s get to this lesson. I see you haven’t shrunk those bat wings like I told you.” He pokes me inthe side. “I’ve been thinking, since you can’t seem to do what I tell you, then we need to find a new way. You probably won’t like it. And you’ll look like more of an idiot than you already do, but I think it just might work.”
For the next hour, Peter has me work on a two-handed throw. Over and over, I bend at the hips, swing my arms between my legs, and release the bean bag in the general direction of the board. And just like during every other cornhole lesson, I miss every time.
Every. Damn. Time.
