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I understand that she needs the sidewalk as much as I need the water. I know there's something she’s dealing with and that’s why she runs. She dreamed last night. Hurt recognizes hurt, and I know that one day that shit is coming out.
“I’m running.”
I nod, leaving her as I stroll to the kitchen and see the crew already milling around, noses as close to their coffee mugs as they can get. I smirk as I grab two mugs, pour whatever Kit had brewed and head back to her.
“Round two?” Kit laughs.
The idea of another round dies when I see her shimmying in her jeans. “No shower?”
She shakes her head, taking the coffee I offer. "I'll shower when I'm back home."
I nod and take in my first hit of caffeine. Nothing, other than the heat of my girl wrapped around my dick, beats that first coffee in the morning. How can we go from the kind of connection that soul mates have, to this massive rock wedged between us? And we both avoid that rock like it isn't there.
"I'm heading out." She puts the mug down on my dresser and leans over to kiss me. It’s quick, guarded. I’m getting whiplash from her actions.
I drop my thumb in the dent of her chin, loving the way it fits there, forcing her to engage for a little longer. Our lips saying goodbye in a slower, more sensual way. "See you later?"
She nods. I see the uncertainty in the green. Surely, she can’t still be uncertain about me, about the way I feel towards her?Last night had shown that. It’s the secret that she’s keeping that’s holding space between us.
She’ll trust me, and then when she does, I’m going to show up and be there for her. I walk her to the apartment door, and drop a kiss at her neck, tasting the cherries.
As I close the door, Kit whistles. “How the hell will you have the energy for drills?”
I laugh as I head to the shower.
My shoulders burn as I pull back on the rowing machine. I can still feel the pinch of her nails embedded in my shoulders. Sexual tension is definitely helpful in improving one's erg.
Erg being the measurement of how much I've performed on the machine.
"My man, you're going to overdo it!" Kit teases.
I grunt.
"What's happening with Harry?" Lucas huffs.
"I'm dealing with it."
"Dare I even mention Zac?" Kit growls.
“Dealing with that, too.”
I'm pushing myself too hard. I stop, grab my towel, and wipe down my face. Clearly, we have a lot of issues to be dealing with at the moment, and none of us have discussed or addressed the graffiti. That still rots in my gut.
"I?" My focus zeroes in on Mia as she saunters into the boathouse, her run over. Her tight as fuck gym wear hugs her ass, making my hands feel jealous of the close contact.
"Hey."
"Hey," I respond. Trying to hide the hard-on.
Silence drops.
"Jesus." Lucas whistles. "I don't know how you two lovebirds cope with all this heat!"
I throw my towel at him.
"What's happening?" she asks, ignoring our banter. She sits on a bench near to me.
"We're discussing Zac," Kit informs her.
