Flames

Gorilla Press

Becky seemed to bring a whirlwind of colour and chaos wherever she went, and Seth loved it. Most of it, anyway. Coming home from his wrestling school to open the door and hear one of her favourite songs blaring—or, even better, one he'd introduced her to—was like the best possible punch to the gut. He would linger in the foyer, listening to her sing along, or peek around the corner to watch her before she realized he was there. They had navigated most of the casual cohabiting problems easily enough, but her Twitter habit had led to him changing the wi-fi password so often he could barely remember it himself.

When he found her in the living room, she was frowning down at her phone. "You changed it again?" Her thumbs pounded at her phone screen. "It was Game of Thrones related, I know it was. . . ."

"Use your data." As he walked past, Seth leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then paused when his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. "Rebecca. . . ." Using her full name usually got her attention, but she was quickly becoming immune to it, so he would have to think of something else. "What did you post this time?"

Becky leaned back, grinning as she looked up at him. "Just a movie reference. What? You post songs and movie quotes," she pointed out, "so you really shouldn't judge. . . ." Her laughter started out as a low chuckle and snowballed into breath-stealing gales as Seth opened Twitter on his phone and waded back through notifications to her original tweet.

He didn't want to laugh. He tried not to, but he had to admit, Becky's response to critics about their supposed lack of chemistry was better than any serious rebuttal would have been. "Dirty Dancing, though?" Then his laugh burst out and he leaned over the back of the couch, kissing her cheek.

"It's better than Anakin and Padme tumbling in a field," Becky retorted. Her eyes darkened a bit as her tone turned serious. "We should probably practice before Monday, though. I don't think you've done a gorilla press for a while. We could go to the next house show early for some extra ring time. . . ."

Arching an eyebrow, Seth dropped his Black and Brave lanyard in her lap as he went to the kitchen. "Because it's not like I have a wrestling school with its own ring or anything."

Becky sat up straighter, turning around to watch him over the back of the couch. "I don't think your students would appreciate paying tuition and then being told they can't have their ring time because you want to practice a dance move."

Seth didn't answer right away, feigning interest in the contents of the fridge and stealing a bottle of water from Becky's shelf instead of his own. He knew Becky wasn't really serious; the humour was a way for her to deal with an issue that affected her more than she liked to admit. All her talk about Vince and his blond fixation was a cover for something deeper: the nagging feeling that she wasn't good enough, pretty enough, feminine enough. Complete bullshit in his opinion, but his reassurances could only do so much, especially when those insidious thoughts had been planted in her head early and never really went away. "Long weekend coming up," he said simply. "So there's no classes. Besides, isn't that a perk of being the boss?" Bottle in hand, he joined her on the couch. "I'll call Marek and tell him we need the place today. And then," he added with a grin, touching the cold bottle to her legs to make her jump, "I apparently need to find a gif."

"And tell me the new wi-fi password," Becky added, "or else I'll just steal your tablet and start posting from there."

"You're such an ddict." Making a mental note to change all his passwords, Seth got up to call his fellow trainer and clear the school's schedule for the rest of the day. Then he found a suitable gif for his Twitter reply and posted it before going back to the living room. "Done," he reported. "A couple of the guys were going to come in to practice, but Marek promised them another time slot next week."