My Wicked Trainers
Twelve years ago
The roar of the pub crashed into the deserted street in Leicester as Liam McRae and his best mate, Rory Stone, stumbled out the doors. Rory grabbed the wrought-iron pole of a nearby streetlight, then swung around it with a whoop, pumping his fist in the air. With a laugh Liam dragged him down and slung his arm around his friend’s broad shoulders. “Get yer stupid arse down from there. Last thing I want is my best winger breaking his leg.”
Rory laughed and spun away, then thumped Liam on the back while jumping around him. “We beat the fuck out of De Montfort!”
Remembering the final game-winning try of the rugby match, which Rory had scored with Liam’s help, made a burst of pride explode in Liam’s chest. He picked his friend up and swung him around, then stumbled and fell against the side of the wall before dropping Rory. “We sure as fuck did.”
Shaking his head, Liam marveled at how greatly his life had changed since he’d left home to go to the University of Leicester. The biggest change of all, or should he say the catalyst for this change, had been his best mate, Rory. The other man was brash, fearless, and charming enough that everyone pretty much let him get away with anything. It helped that Rory’s father was a famous rock star and his mother was a prima ballerina. Liam wasn’t as worldly as the London-born-and-raised Rory. Unlike his friend, Liam had grown up in a tiny, insular village with conservative Catholic parents. To say his knowledge of the world had been limited before he arrived at Leicester was an understatement.
Then he’d met Rory, and they hit it off instantly, despite their differences. Rory was surprisingly down-to-earth, and it still shocked Liam every time he met Rory’s dad, who was equally cool. It was at a party hosted by Rory’s dad at a club in London that Liam had fucked his first girl in the arse on the rooftop of the club, a memory he savored. Like any typical twenty-year-old guys, they were horny as hell, and both had gone through a string of willing women. Being two stars of their university rugby team had certainly helped their ability to get laid.
Their friendship served them well on the field. It was almost like they had some kind of psychic connection that let them read each other’s minds. He’d look over at Rory and just know that his friend was going to make a break for it and would need coverage. It certainly worked to their team’s advantage and had made the babes eager to drop their knickers.
They passed the bank clock which proclaimed in bright red numbers that it was just past midnight. As they left the bar district and made their way to their apartment, the shops became more upscale. Giant flower planters shone beneath the street lights in vibrant bursts of color. Liam loved this city, loved the freedom he found here, and most of all loved that he got to share it with his best mate. Since he’d met Rory three years ago, his view of the world had expanded greatly, thanks in no small part to Rory’s influence. At first Liam been a little intimidated by his roommate, but Rory had such a good heart and energetic spirit that it was almost impossible not to like him.
Liam glanced over at his friend and watched as Rory took a running leap over a stone planter, the muscles in his calves bunching and flexing beneath his shorts. His friend often reminded him of a cheetah, all lean grace and speed. Liam considered jumping it as well, but with as much lager and whiskey shots as he’d done tonight he’d be more apt to run into the damn thing and break his face. The fact that he was walking without too noticeable a stagger was the best he could do right now.
They soon reached the entrance to their high-end apartment building, and Liam tried to shush Rory as he sang their university’s fight song at the top of his lungs. Liam tried to shush him again as the doors closed behind them and Rory’s voice echoed through the
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