She left without a note, no sign she had even been here except for the folded-up pair of shorts I guess she never put on and the water glass beside the bed. That and the pillow I normally use was lying lengthwise as if someone was hugging it in their sleep.
That makes me smile.
I make a quick protein shake and shoot a text to Darling and Yami.
MONTY: My dudes. Who’s up for a run this morning?
YAMI: Seriously? Damn, it’s 7 am.
MONTY: Okay T Swift, if you’re toolazy just say so…
YAMI: Don’t bring my imaginary girlfriend into this.
YAMI: Meet at the usual spot?
DARLING: Y’all are lazy. I’ve been up since 6. Already done my yoga. See you there in thirty?
MONTY: It’s on like donkey kong. And Yami, I’ll treat you to donuts after.
YAMI: Fine. But I want TWO donuts.
With just a few minutes to get ready before I need to leave and meet the guys, I briefly debate texting Lark. In the end, my self-doubt wins and I don’t. She probably doesn’t remember much from last night. Heck, she might even be embarrassed that I had to carry her inside. Not that I care; any excuse to hold her. Besides, she was a cute drunk, with those little hiccups and giggles. And seeing her in my shirt, in my bed?
Goddamn, that was as close to heaven as I’ve ever been.
I get dressed in compression tights, shorts, and a Tridents long sleeve thermal shirt, grab a toque, my keys and a water bottle, and I’m out the door. When I pull into the parking lot in Stanley Park where the guys and I like to meet, I can’t help but remember the last time I went for a run here.
With Lark.
The day she told me she was engaged.
I’ve avoided this spot since then and didn’t realize it untilnow.
Darling’s already waiting, but there’s no sign of Yami as I get out of my car.
“Mornin’, how long are we gonna wait for him?” Darling says as I walk over.
I shrug. “We’ll give him a few, we’re early.” I start to do some warm-up stretches, letting the crisp November air fill my lungs. If the skies stay clear all day like they’re meant to, I’m going to head up to one of the local mountains with my telescope.
It wasn’t easy being a science geek in a small town. And even being on a sports team, helping them hit the championships, didn’t outweigh the social suicide I brought on myself with myStar WarsT-shirts and space puns. Yeah, I was the nerd in school who wanted to study the stars.
At least now as an adult, I can embrace my nerdy side openly, and not fear the backlash. If anything, people love me even more for it — now.
I’ve always said that if I hadn’t gone on to play ball professionally, I would have considered getting a degree in astrophysics. Visiting NASA is a bucket list dream of mine.
A low black sports car speeds into the parking lot, the music thumping from inside.
“Always gotta make an entrance,” Darling says, a wry smile on his face.
We’ve all got our roles to play. Where I’m the friendly one, Darling’s the southern gentleman, Maverick’s the bad boy, Sin’s the father figure, and Yami? He’s the drama queen.
We’re finding our groove as a duo, and most of the time, our energies compliment each other. We’re both outgoing and loveto have fun. But where I try to put everyone else first, Yami can be a bit more selfish sometimes. Not malicious, though. Nah, the guy doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. But it’s the little things like this — blaring loud music early in the morning, not caring who he might disturb as he drives through town.
When he cuts his engine and the music stops, the silence feels abrupt. He climbs out of his car and immediately stretches his arms overhead with a yawn.
“It is so fucking early.”
“Okay, you big baby, stretch and let’s go. I want some donuts.” Darling starts to bounce side to side.
