Kate didn’t reply, but that didn’t stop me from hanging on the reaction that never happened. Was she upset? Was she glad I’d come, or did she wish I’d skipped?

The time ran out on Violet’s period and we waited for the final decision. The ref lifted her little arm and a grin split her face. She didn’t win by a pin, but she won. Kate drifted away to join her family, and I followed.

Jason caught my arm. “You mind helping us put everything away? Randall’s getting a migraine, and he’s too damn proud to say anything.”

“No problem.” I unbuttoned my cuffs and rolled my sleeves up. The tie was already gone. Damn thing had bugged me all day. I took my shoes off to walk over the mats.

Jason, Matt, and I rolled mats. Kate helped gather record sheets and stack chairs. Jason and Matt herded Randall out the door with instructions to get home before it was too bad to drive. Violet cartwheeled across the gym floor. Her winter coat hung open over her dark blue singlet.

I stacked rolled-up mats in the far corner of the club room. The feeling of being watched itched between my shoulders.

When I turned, Corbin was at the edge of the room. His skinny legs stuck out from his winter coat and his feet were tucked into wide black snow boots. “Hey, Uncle Aiden.”

“Hey. Heard you did well.”

He nodded, but his intense little gaze darted away.

“You don’t feel like you did?”

He lifted a bony shoulder. “I would’ve gotten first if I’d won that match, but he got me on a sprawl. I couldn’t get out.”

I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt and beckoned him closer, onto the club room’s mats. “Show me.”

His face lit up and he shrugged out of his coat. Dumping it on the floor, he stepped out of his boots and tossed his wrestling shoes on the ground next to them. I dropped to my knees when he padded toward me and he did the same. He shoved his head toward the mat and I leaned over him, carefully putting my weight over him like his opponent would’ve.

“Okay, what’d you do?” I asked, my hands around his thin waist.

He grunted and his arm wrapped around my thigh. I rotated that foot like a clock and kept it out of his grasp. “Stop my foot,” I instructed and eased some of my weight off him. My proportions were much larger than his opponent’s, but the problem was clear. “You can’t sweep behind me if I can move around and keep my leverage over you.”

His hand clasped my shin, his grip straining.