Page 3 of Hard to Judge

“You were in the Olympics?” She turns the phone toward me.

I’m assaulted with a picture of myself. I’m young and hollow, despite the smile that stretches my lips and the two gold medals around my neck.

She pulls the phone back, scrolls, and blinks.

“Hota!” Her lips stretch into a smile. “That outfit.” She presses her lips into a line and pulls Arlo into the crook of her arm, showing him whatever is on the screen now. “That ass.” Her cheeks go as red as her hair. “Those thighs. Those shoulders.”

“It’s called a singlet,” I offer, trying my best to ignore the blood flowing south.

“If you think his body is amazing in those pictures…” Arlo grabs her chin and lifts it toward me. “You’ll have a heart attack if you see him now.” Hailey licks her lips, and Arlo’s dark eyes lift to me. “He’s thicker, wider, and harder.”

Harder?

They look at me like I’m the main course.

Fuck yes, I’m hard.

I adjust my dick as discreetly as I can and try to get myself under control. I’m older too. I’m supposed to be wiser.

“Do you still have your singlet?” Hailey stuffs Arlo’s phone into his pocket and leans her hip on the railing, pulling Arlo with her so he stands just over her left shoulder.

“No.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Hailey’s gaze slides to me, then to Arlo in a devilish seduction, and back. “I would have loved to watch you two wrestle.”

“Arlo never wrestled,” I blurt.

Arlo responds, “Who needs a singlet?”

I stare at him like I don’t know him because I don’t know this carefree version standing in front of me with his arm around a woman and his adult charisma blasting my way.

I knew the tortured soul. The broken boy who grew into a powerful and broken man.

Sure, through the years, I’ve had his eyes on me while I’ve fucked. Sure, I’ve let him order me around during all manner of deviant behavior, but somehow this is different. This is closer, more intimate, and all our clothes are on.

“Oh, right.” Hailey twists in Arlo’s arms. “You wouldn’t have wrestled.”

“No, but I learned the technique. I studied all the school practices,” Arlo admits.

“I bet you did, and I can’t blame you.” Her laugh is light, and then it turns sultry. “If I got you two singlets, would you wrestle now?” She waggles a brow at Arlo.

“And get my ass kicked by a six-time gold medalist?” Arlo's pretty face grimaces.

“You have six gold medals?” Hailey grabs my hand that rests on the banister nearest her.

“I…” My throat gets tight. I hesitate, not wanting to ruin the mood.

Hailey straightens, leaving her lover’s embrace and bringing herself closer to me. “You what?”

“Yes, I earned six gold medals through three different games.” I push from the railing and Hailey’s hold and walk toward a shelf built into the tall wall. Slowly, I meander right, perusing the titles. None of the letters make sense because I’m not reading them.

“Hota?” Arlo calls to me.

“Yeah?” I pluck a thick book off a shelf and flip through its pages. “Have you ever read any of these books?”

“Look at me.” That voice, the one I hear in my dreams and nightmares, demands that I turn. So, I do.

Hailey’s smile is now a serious frown, while Arlo’s sharp features form a stringent appeal.

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