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“God damn, Carleigh,” Bishop says when we walk up, me holding onto Bryson’s hand to not get lost in the crowd.“You look hot.Look at your little waist in that dress!”
“Thanks, Bishop.”I’ve been running a lot, so I’ve earned that compliment.I take a step up to hoist myself into the tall booth and Bryson slides in beside me.His ears are a little red, too, but before I can ask him if something’s wrong, a waitress is on us.I order a vodka and seltzer and Bryson gets a beer; by the time that’s through, he’s already talking to Bishop’s date, a good-looking guy who introduces himself as Paul.
“Can’t believe you got him to go to a lecture.”Bishop shakes his head.“The guy who used to skip history class.”
“Used to skip a lot of classes,” Quinn laughs.“Not just history!”He has a mischievous look on his face, but he kind of always does, so I don’t know quite what to make of it.“I can see it, though.I’d go anywhere with you in that dress, Carleigh.”
Bryson’s hand drops unexpectedly onto my lap just then, his palm flattening and then curling around my thigh just where the hem rides up past my knee.“So, Quinn, how’s the opening going?”he asks loudly.
“Great,” Quinn replies, his eyes flashing with more of that puckish glint from earlier.“Meeting a lot of interesting people.”
“That so?”
There’s an edge to the way Bryson is speaking that is confusing me.I decide not to try to figure out what’s going on with him and Quinn, and instead turn to talk to Paul.I find out he’s a consultant for an environmental waste management company, and that he and Bishop met at a bar about a month prior.He’s friendly and has nice, kind eyes; I like him for Bishop.
“What about you guys?”Paul asks, nodding toward me and Bryson.“How long have you guys been together?”
“Oh,” I say, feeling heat rise in my cheeks and desperately wishing for it to go away.“I, we’re not a - Bryson’s my roommate.”
Paul lifts an eyebrow just slightly.I could be wrong, but I see his eyes flip briefly down to my lap, where from his angle, Bryson’s hand placement must be clear.“Oh, my mistake,” he says, but there’s a quirk to the corner of his lips as he takes a sip of his drink.
Oh no.Not another one of these types in my life - it’s the last thing a girl trying to get over a crush on her friend needs.Luckily, the song shifts, and I’m saved by Bishop tugging on Paul’s arm.“Let’s go dance!”
Paul waves at me and follows Bishop out of the booth.Quinn, who stepped aside to let them exit, slides back in.“So, how’s marathon training going, Carleigh?”he asks.
I groan.“Don’t remind me about that right now - I’ve got another twelve miles to do tomorrow.”
“It’s going good though, right?”Bryson interjects, looking down at me for confirmation.“You seemed pretty happy with your pace yesterday.”
I take a long sip of my drink, relishing in the cool liquid, wishing for balance to come to my mind.“Yes,” I confirm, speaking quickly after realizing they are both waiting for me.“Yeah, it’s going okay.I’m on track for where I want to be.I’d like to do a four-hour marathon, if I can, but I’ll be happy with around four and a half.Really anything under five.”
“I’m exhausted just thinking about it,” Quinn tells me, with a shake of his head.
Bryson chuckles.“Every time she comes back to the apartment, I feel lazier and lazier.”
I frown and click my tongue.“Oh, Bryson, come on.You work a physical job.You’re in great shape.”
“My endurance is shot to hell, though.”He shrugs.“But oh well.Some of us are built for strength, not speed!And then some of us are built for neither.Right, Quinn?”
“Oh, that’s not what you were saying when I beat your ass outside of-”
“Piss off about that, we were literally kids.Let go of your one victory.”
I roll my eyes and swirl a melting cube of ice around my glass.“I’m sure you’re both Frank Dux now.”
That stalls them both mid-argument.Quinn looks at me, wide-eyed, then at Bryson.“Er, was that a Bloodsport reference?”he asks, surprised.
I shrug and sip my cocktail.“Don’t sound so shocked.”
Bryson lifts his hand from my leg so he can take mine.“The perfect woman,” he marvels in a teasing tone, eyes twinkling as he gazes at me.“Marry me.”
I giggle and tug my hand out of his.“I don’t know, Bryson, can you do the splits like Jean-Claude van Damme?”
He slaps his hand on the table jovially.“I’ll learn!”
Quinn winces.“Sounds painful, I don’t know.”
“You saying I’m not worth it?”I ask, laughing.
