Two Weeks (6 page)

I vow to have coffee when I return. However, I eat a protein bar so I'm not literally running on fumes.

After doing a few stretches, I throw on my shorts and running shoes and head out to the porch. I look off into the field, out toward the lake. It truly is a beautiful day. I'm finally starting to feel a little better. I remember how I toppled my opponent last night and secured myself a place in the finals.

And then I think about that stupid blonde and her friend, just looking to fuck
anyone
as long as they said they were a fighter. I couldn't stand groupies, yet I had fucked one in a bar bathroom last night. At least she had provided a condom.

I wonder what I would have done if she hadn't given me that condom.
The thought worries me, especially with how out of it I felt at the time.

What makes it even weirder is the fact that casual sex is the only sex I've had since I broke up with my ex a few years ago. Why was I so repulsed by it last night?

I thought about Ally the whole time and failed to finish because it wasn't really her.

Why the hell am I so focused on her? She pissed me off and I wanted to get back at her by sleeping with her. Hell, I
still
want to do that. But something feels weird.

I walk down the deck steps until I'm in the backyard by the garage. The rabbits are out already, and they flee toward the front yard. Or maybe they just have business up there and are just eager to get started.

As I'm enter the trail, I notice someone else running, a girl. She's wearing a sports bra and tight shorts and she's sprinting
really fast
. I'm taken aback, initially bracing myself because she looks like she's fleeing an attacker. I keep my eyes peeled, looking for whomever is chasing her—and ready to save her if necessary.

But there's no one behind her, and my motives change fast. I sleazily watch her chest bounce as she's running, hoping that my glances remain furtive.

I'm thrilled to be a man sometimes.

She's seen me already, however, and now she's coming toward me. I debate pretending to do something else, but then I notice it's
Ally Moore
and she's flying at me like a very sexy projectile.

The sun is glowing around her outline and she's so bright I can barely look at her directly.

She slows down and I bring my gaze up so it's not obvious what I was doing. My gut tightens immediately and I'm once again shocked by my body's response to seeing her. I've got butterflies in my stomach and I'm confused as hell about it because I thought I hated her.

Her hair is in a ponytail and it's bobbing wildly behind her head. Her stomach is toned and flat, and her legs are so perfectly slender and long. I want them wrapped around my waist. Right now.

I feel like my insides are on fire. My legs are wobbly. I feel like I'm about to give a solo class presentation in fourth grade science and my whole reputation as a "cool guy" is on the line.

"Jackson?" Her voice is full of exasperation. She comes to an abrupt stop right in front of me and yanks her white ear buds out of her ears. It's like she just leapt from an airplane and suddenly landed here in front of me.

"Hi, Ally," I say quietly. "What the hell are you doing out here so early?"

She pants and says nothing, bending forward, hands on her thighs. I inadvertently catch a glimpse of her cleavage and I really hope I don't get an erection right now because that would be awkward. I want to be classy for some reason I don't understand.

"I couldn't get back to sleep. So I went for a run." Although she's totally out of breath, there's something else hidden in her voice that I'm wary of.

"Same here," I say. "It's a good place to run."

"Right," she says. She looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes, and I'm quiet again.

"You were going really fast," I say. "And you weren't just doing short sprints because I saw you running like that for a long time."

"Just trying to blow off some steam," she says. "I'm kind of... dealing with some stuff." She looks down at the ground and then right back to me. "Jackson?" she asks. I'm all ears, and she continues immediately. "I forgot to bring water. Do you... live here?" She points at the house where I've lived most of my life, a curious expression on her face.

I laugh and instantly relax. "Sure," I say. "Follow me. I might have an extra water bottle even."

She smiles and touches my arm. I'm not sure why she touches it, but it feels so warm, and her touch seems to ripple through me like I'm a pond and she's just tossed in a huge rock. A
boulder.

We walk along the garage toward the deck that I just left. "Y'know," I say, "if you need to blow off some steam, I can definitely help you with that."

She shoots me an incredulous look. "Excuse me?" she snaps.

I stop and face her. "Oh, shut up," I say. "I meant
boxing
. Just because I'm a guy doesn't mean I
only
think about sex." I smirk and try to joke with her. "There's at least
one minute
every day that I don't think about it."

She laughs and it's like a chorus of angels is singing inside my brain and I'm totally confused by the ethereal imagery coming from my psyche. "Only twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes a day, huh? And
what about
boxing?"

It's clear that she still doesn't know what I'm talking about.

"I do amateur MMA for a 'living.' I have a gym in the garage. If you really want to blow off some steam, you could train with me since I've got another fight coming up in a week."

"Really?" she asks. "Isn't that... dangerous?" Concurrently, she notices my bruised forearms and lightly touches them, as if she's stroking a kitten. "Ouch. Is that what these bruises are from?"

"Occupational hazard," I say with a chuckle. "It's a little a dangerous, I guess. But there are rules. It's not like underground fighting or something."

She's quick to respond. "What do your parents think about that?"

I gulp, because again, it's clear she doesn't know and although I really don't want to be a buzzkill, I need to be honest and clear. "My parents passed away."

"Oh, shit," she says softly. "I'm sorry. When did that happen?"

"A few years ago," I say. "It was an accident. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Happened at a bad time, too."

She reaches over and strokes my arm again, and it makes me glad that I started talking about this subject. And my appreciation isn't totally superficial, since she actually makes me feel better. "I'm so sorry, Jackson. That's terrible. I can't even imagine what that must have felt like."

I give her a half-smile. "They died painlessly, Ally. And they died together. That's not all bad."

Her hand is still on my arm, lightly stroking it. She's controlling my mood through that tactile connection. "God, Jackson, that's like the most mature and incredible thing I've ever heard anyone say about a tragedy. Seriously." She smiles at me, and it's utterly beautiful. "I just can't believe I never heard about it. I feel like such a bitch. You probably thought I was rubbing my family reunion in your face."

Her breathing is slowing. She's calming. "No way. And it's not like you're actively seeking out news related to Red Lake, are you? I mean, you left to get away from this small-town shit, so I understand your ignorance."

Ally shrugs. "I can't believe I'm saying this," she starts, "but I'm sorry for being so stuck up the other night. For acting like I'm better than everyone. I'm not, but I've been pretending I am since I left." She lowers her hand to her side, and physically, appears to humble herself. I'm a little moved by the gesture.

"I was definitely messing with you though," I say. I catch her licking her very dry lips. "And let's not forget about the fact that you needed water, not conversation."

She laughs. "This is great, actually. I needed this."

"C'mon," I say. I'm emboldened, so I take her by the hand and lead her up the steps. She follows willingly. I slide open the glass door and guide her into the kitchen and grab my extra water bottle out of the cabinet.

"Is this okay?" I ask.

"A glass is fine," she says. "I don't need a whole bottle."

"But I thought we were going to run
together
," I say wryly.

"Oh, shit," she says, "you wanna come along?"

"I was going to invite
you
to come with
me.
" I grin at her and she does the same back. "What do you think I'm doing in a pair of shorts and running shoes standing next to a running trail?"

She nods and starts laughing. "Good point. And I guess I'll give up my pride and run with you."

"Excellent." I put the bottle under the tap and fill it to the top. It's not that big, so she shouldn't have a problem carrying it while we run. When she starts looking around the kitchen, my eyes admire her perfectly lean figure. It's clear that she likes to take care of herself and that's a huge turn-on for me.

And what's weirder is the fact that this incredibly hot, incredibly beautiful girl is standing in my kitchen with me wearing only a bra and shorts so tight it almost makes me sweat—and I'm
not
just thinking about fucking her.

"So... was this the house?" she asks. It pulls me out of my mild stupor. She takes a huge swig of the water bottle and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Since it's clear plastic, I can see just how huge the swig was.

"Yeah. It is. I mostly left it the way they had it. No real reason for me to change anything. I grew up here, but that doesn't mean it's
my
home. My dad built this place himself. Well, with some help too."

She turns and makes eye contact with me again. "Is that why you came back?" I can see it in her eyes, the realization that she judged me too soon the other night. I decide to be gentle.

I nod. "Yeah. Things weren't really going my way, so I just came back here. My dad left me some money, so between his life insurance policy and his retirement, if I'm modest, I'm pretty much set for life. Something positive, I guess."

"I can't even imagine," she says.

"Ally, I swear, I'm over it." The words sound too harsh, so I adjust. "I mean, in a healthy way. I've come to terms with it. I miss them, but I know I can't change anything now."

"You must be so strong," she says. "I don't know I if could do that."

I want to accept her words, but I don't
feel
strong. My whole foray into MMA has been based on feelings of self-destruction and apathy. No one has cared about me in a long time, and I'm not really sure how to deal with Ally's sudden supportiveness.

"If you had to do it, you definitely could," I say firmly, deflecting her compliment. "I didn't have a choice, Ally."

"I'm sorry for asking so many questions," she says like she's caught herself in the middle of a bad habit. "I guess it's just surprising to hear all of this. Makes my problems feel so insignificant."

"Your problems are in the present," I say reassuringly. "So they're still real. Mine are in the past. And you're about to have even more problems if we don't start running soon, because I get very upset if I don't get my exercise."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asks, smiling warmly. "Are you sure you can keep up with me?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," I say sharply.

She takes another drink of the water bottle and then refills it at the sink. "You're on then, Jackson. Let's go."

I close up the house for the second time and then we head to the trail. The sun is higher in the sky than before and strangely, I'm feeling happier than I have in ages.

***

Ally

I
'm a little intimidated, but I don't want him to know it since I'm thoroughly enjoying my playful rivalry with
Superman
here. We take off and run along the lake. The warm sun is such a beautiful complement to the day that I can barely contain my joy, even as I think about Jackson's sadness.

Jackson's probably noticed my boobs bouncing by now, but it doesn't bother me that much. We're running and honestly, there's nothing I can do about it since all I wore was a sports bra. I don't catch him staring, however, so that's nice.

And I'm kind of a hypocrite since I really enjoy watching
him
run. He's in peak physical condition, and it's quite remarkable to see him in action.

He's perfectly sculpted
everywhere
, from his six-pack abs to his broad shoulders, from his bulging biceps to his great pecs. It's classical beauty, the sort of figure you'd see in a sculpture garden. Something he's worked hard to shape and mold and now I can't stop myself from throwing surreptitious glances his way.

I'm distracted from my troubles in the best possible way.

Our pace is reasonable, yet brisk. No one else is out here but us, and the trail feels like it's ours. Exclusive.

"Doing okay, Ally?" he asks cockily.

"Absolutely," I say, my words spilling out between rapid breaths. It's clear that he's got his breathing better under control than I do, but then again, he also apparently trains eight days a week. All advantages aside, I think I'm doing pretty damn good.

We pass along the shimmering surface of the water and then head deeper into the woods. Our conversation is consistent, but not frequent. The natural ambience of the woods keeps us both company.

"Shit," he says suddenly. "I forgot to grab my own water bottle."

I toss him mine. "You have to carry it until I want another drink."

"Fine, your majesty," he says and proceeds to spray the same amount of water onto his hair as he sends down his throat.

"I hope we don't get stranded," I say playfully. "I didn't know you were going to waste all of our water taking a shower."

"Very funny," he says. Sweat is pouring down his brow and I can see why he doused himself. It reminds me of the fact that I'm getting pretty sweaty myself. The day is warming up fast, and it's already fairly humid.

We run across several small streets since the trail is carved through the middle of forests and patches of residential area. The houses are sparse, but some backyards are only a few feet from the trail. Occasionally we sprint together, and I'm all the more impressed that I'm keeping up with him.