Me: Who said anything about us sleeping together? There’s only coffee on offer, tonight. He didn’t answer. He grabbed my hand, pulled me towards h...m and kissed me. For a long time. Him: Let’s go to bed So I followed him up the stairs and into my bedroom, all the time wishing I’d put a couple of large brandies in those Diet Cokes he plied me with in the bar at the sports centre. I was in desperate need of some Dutch courage. Me: I just need to use the loo. With just a flimsy plasterboard wall. He was an outcast, misunderstood and underestimated by many, until they challenged him and went toe to toe with him, that is. That was how I was growing up, shy and reserved in general, but a fierce competitor who despised losing lay just below the surface, ready to explode at a moment’s notice. That trait worked well in rugby, and also gave me the additional push I needed to land the girl of my dreams. Back to the part of this story where playing rugby got me bullied. I was the captain and. More

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