Although I didn't know the guys name, I knew that Blake didn't like him. I guessed that's why he was asking for help. I nodded.
Walking over I sat next to Blake. "Sup'."
"Hey Jack, you ok?" Blake said. I have to admit, he had a great body. His black shirt hugged his body, outlining the contours of his physique perfectly. If the NFL career fell through, he could model easily--perhaps he could do both.
"Wanted to talk to you, about football."
"Oh? But you're a wrestler dude."
"Have you got a few minutes, I just want a chat--away from the noise."
"Sure."
We left the room, and we walked around to the restrooms. "So what's on your mind?" He asked.
"I wondered if the team," I paused for a moment. Over Blake's shoulder, I could see the guy. "Well, I wanted to train with them, not play, just work out--you know?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but he was taken by surprise when the guy grabbed his wrists and pushed up against Blake's back. The jock groaned, and his body tensed, then relaxed.
The guy stumbled away from Blake shaking his head. Blake spun on his heels and stared him down, then pushed him away. "Get the hell away from me you jerk." The poor guy looked dazed and confused and left.
"What a joke. Damn, this guy is loaded," he said showing me gold watch on his wrist. He started to feel his arms and body through his shirt. "So pumped as well. Shit bro' I've got to have a closer look."
I followed him into the restroom and jammed my foot against the door. He slowly peeled the shirt off his back--it was that tight. "Damn!" I muttered, this kid was going places; beautiful and at his physical peak. If things were different, I'd pick him for a permanent home. I watched in silence as Blake flexed and posed. I was proud of my son; it was amazing how quickly he'd integrated into Blake's mind and body.