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“But you’re too big. ” It was frustrating, and I snarled my anger at him.
“Get used to it. Everyone’s bigger than you. Now shut up and use your weight. ” He slapped at my leg. “Use it all. Get your knee in my stom—”
I jammed my knee onto his belly, and he grunted. “Damn, D, not so hard. But yeah . . . ” He shifted, grunting again. “Now use your other hand to pound my face. ”
I went at him, and he flinched. Laughing, he yelled, “Not for real!”
Finally, I got him down—one knee on his stomach and a fist poised over his face. “Pretty simple,” I said, feeling triumphant.
“Yeah, until I flip you. ” With a single swing of his legs, Yasuo had me on my back before I knew what had happened. “You didn’t keep your weight on me, D. You can’t let up for a second. ”
We grinned at each other, panting to catch our breath. He straddled me, pinning my hands to the mat.
I froze.
It was pretty intimate, and I let my mind go there for a second. Yasuo was an undeniably good-looking guy. Plus he was nice, he was cool, and we got along.
And here we were, him astride me, leaning down like he was getting ready to kiss me. The smile on his face faded, and I could tell the notion had entered his mind, too.
I explored the thought, opening myself to feelings. But nothing came.
And then I imagined what it might be like if Ronan straddled me like this. If it were Ronan’s legs wrapped around me, Ronan holding my hands down. Fire ignited from my belly all the way to my scalp.
He laughed, breaking the tension. And then he pretended to lay punches on my head with his elbows and fists. “Pay attention, Drew. I’m braining you. ”
“Huh?”
“Cover your head!”
“Right, yeah. ” I got right back in it, curling my arms up, covering my face.
“That’s it. Always guard your head. ” He stopped for a second. My arms were still clenched over my face, and he rested his hands on them. But that feeling of intimacy had passed. I sensed it from his end, too—like he’d also played a scenario out in his mind but had felt nothing.
He jiggled my arms. “You’re pinned. Do you know how you’re going to get out of this?”
“No. ” I gave a spurt of kicking and wriggling, but Yasuo was solid over me. “I’m stuck. ”
He gently pulled my hands from where I’d clenched them around my head. “Now take this arm”—he gave my right arm a squeeze—“and wrap it through mine. Yeah, like that. Now grab my hand. ”
I did as he instructed, and, neat as a pin, I’d wrenched Yasuo’s arm out to the side. “Cool!”
He smiled. “Not done yet, Blondie. You’re still pinned. Your opponent will think you’re struggling, that he’s got you. But listen. If you’re ever on your back like this, get to the ropes. Scoot back. ”
I did as he told me, shimmying toward the edge of the mat.
“More. Scoot back against the ropes . . . or the wall, or the trees, or whatever you’re pinned against. ”
I scooched and wriggled until my head hit the bottom rope.
“Boom,” he said. “You’re there. The only way to survive is to get back on your feet. You’ve got my arm, but I think I’ve got you pinned and cornered. Now you have to sit up a little. ”
I glowered at him. “How can I sit up?”
“Just a little. Just brace your other arm behind you. ” He tightened his grip, and I squirmed. He was making this a little too realistic.
“You’re getting off on this,” I snarled. Struggling, I edged to the side a bit, doing as he instructed. “Shit, Yas. You make it . . . sound . . . easy. ”
I got my arm behind me, and once I braced on my elbow, it was easy to lever myself to a half-sitting position. He was still over me, but my shoulders were back up against the ropes.
