“With opponents bigger than you, one of the ways they’ll try to incapacitate you is by literally lifting you off the ground, so reaction time is key,” Donovan states, getting back into training instructor mode. “Nolan is going to wrap his arms around your waist to try and pick you up, but he has to bend over to do that.”
Nolan does as instructed and bends over to try and pick me up, his forearms feeling like steel bands against my stomach, and he stays in mid-motion for the next direction. Despite wiping himself down, water droplets drip from his hair onto my back, and there’s a damp heat where our bodies touch.
I’m pretty sure Nolan’s phone is mocking me, because another sultry song with gritty riffs starts playing, making me once again hyper aware of one of the boys pressed against me.I get it, phone. You don’t have to rub it in!
“When he grabs you, you need to spread your stance so his foot is between yours.” Donovan squats down in front of me and helps me move my feet into position. “Now, bend at the waist, grab him by the ankle, and pull up.”
I bend over, which feels as awkward as I expected with Nolan’s groin against my ass, grab the back of Nolan’s right ankle with both hands, and give a sharp tug. Sure enough, Nolan goes down, though it isn’t a smooth descent, and I end up going down right along with him.
He makes a soft “oof” noise as all of my bodyweight lands right on his stomach, and I flop backwards.
“You did it!” Felix cheers, kindly ignoring the fact I went down, too.
Donovan sighs. “Normally that move is much faster, so you’re less likely to go down with your opponent, because he’ll be too busy trying to break his fall.”
“It seemed to have worked to me,” Nolan comments with an over-exaggerated wheeze. “I’m on the ground and feeling fairly submissive.”
My mind goes blank, as I have no idea how to handle that sentence.
Donovan purses his lips, shakes his head, then says, “Great, then while you’re down there we’ll work on chokeholds.”
From there it’s a never-ending sparring match of innuendos and jokes between the three of them, while I learn how to spin, twist, and bend my way out of being overpowered by Nolan. By the time we’re finished, I can’t breathe because I’m laughing too hard and tomato red, which I can thankfully blame on the workout.
“Stop-- please. I can’t take anymore,” I gasp, after Felix makes a comment about how he’s pretty sure my legs shouldn’t be able to bend that way.
“That’s my line,” Nolan coughs, hands curled around my thighs that currently have him in a loose chokehold. “Not that I’m complaining. Honestly, I’m reconsidering my position on being the grapple dummy.”
“Don’t say it,” I cry before someone can make a joke about the many positions Nolan might be considering.
That leads to grins all around. I unravel from around Nolan, and he helps me back to my feet.
“Okay, I think you’ve learned enough for one day,” Donovan says to my great relief.
“Yes!” I cheer. “Finally, food then shower.”
“I’m surprised it isn’t the other way around,” Nolan comments, walking over to grab us water, a couple more towels, and to retrieve the evil phone.
“It would’ve been an hour ago. Now, I’m starving,” I reply, placing both of my hands on my gurgling belly. “Speaking of food, wasn’t Kaleb putting lunch together a while ago?”
“Knowing him, there’s probably everything ready to make sandwiches, and he has his nose buried in a book,” Donovan answers while we head toward the door, filing out one at a time with Felix in the lead.
Nolan grabs my arm, stopping me, and lets the others get ahead of us.
“We should take a selfie to remember our first session as grappler and grapple dummy,” he says with a grin.
“Right now?” I whine, looking down at my sweat drenched clothes. “I look gross.”
“You’re beautiful,” he assures, causing little butterflies to dance in my stomach. He wraps one arm around my waist while holding his phone up for the picture with the other. “Now say ‘Nolan is the best!’”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
His grin grows, and he shakes his phone to illustrate he’s waiting, our sweaty, red-faced reflections bouncing around on the screen.
Leaning my head against his shoulder, I smile up at the camera, and he quickly takes the photo.
“Perfect,” he beams, stepping back, and thumbs at his phone before putting it back in his pocket.
My heart grows soft, and I feel silly being so sentimental, but it’s our first picture together. Hopefully, the first of many pictures with the guys. Each one capturing a new happy memory for me to cherish.
