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14
BRYSON
Ihave this idea at the end of July.
Initially, all I wanted was to support Carleigh.Sure, I’m attracted to her, and have been, but it didn’t seem mutual.So, I just want to be a good friend and friends support each other, cheer each other on - and what more reason to do that than when they run a marathon?
The rundown is that the marathon she signed up for is the full marathon at Lake Placid, about five hours away from the city.Just showing up isn’t going to be as simple as if it were in Brooklyn or Queens.But I’ve been to the Adirondacks before and have always had a great time, so even if everything else backfires, I’ll at least be in a beautiful place, right?So, toward the end of the month, I pulled the trigger and organized a surprise camping trip with some friends so that we could be there to cheer her on.Even if she is too tired to stay after and feels like going back to the city, she will appreciate us showing up.
Then, not even a week later, that night happened.The night where I went to her school’s event and then acted like a jackass, because I couldn’t stop feeling jealous and protective every time someone glanced her way with anything but platonic interest.The night where I almost ruined everything inside some new hipster bar that won’t be open a month from now.
I have no idea what it is about Carleigh that drives me so crazy, because I’ve never felt quite this erratic before with any other girl, but I almost blew it.It took all of my self-control at that bar not to grab her and kiss her and tell her that I want her to be mine, and only mine - and in the end, I hadn’t even really controlled myself, given that I ended up kind of yelling at her on the sidewalk.
But then - then we went home, and things had gotten … muddy.Carleigh came out of her bedroom wearing a little pajama set she had to know was going to draw my eye, then she smiled at me with those big beautiful eyes, hugged and touched me, pulled my hair and kissed my neck.She’d let me drag my big clumsy hands over her runner’s legs and her perfect ass, and pretty sure that if I moved to palm her perky breasts, she’d have let me do that, too.
Now, I have no idea what’s going on between us.We’re not just friends, we’re not quite more, either.We haven’t talked about it since that night - Carleigh tried a little when we returned home from the bar, but for all of the signals that it may be mutual, I’m not confident, and just not ready to face that overt rejection.Not from someone I want to keep in my life, regardless of what role she plays.
The two weeks since that night have been busy.She’s had a lot going on at school, not to mention trying to rest and stay healthy and be prepared for her run.Plus, now I’m back at work and experienced a few hard days.But now, before I go to bed, I always offer a hug, and she always accepts.But nothing like that night has happened again.
The night before Carleigh is set to leave for Lake Placid, though, feels different.Her parents are coming to watch from Boston, and they’ve booked a hotel for the three of them for the night before.Carleigh has no idea that Quinn, Molly, Bishop, and Sawyer and I are leaving almost immediately after she is.She doesn’t know Molly is coming over the next morning to pack her a few extra days’ worth of clothes, just in case she wants to stay with us into next week, and she doesn’t know when she crosses the finish line, we’ll all be there to pat her on the back.Her parents do, apparently – I’ve never met or talked to them, but Molly passed the plan along just in case.
Nope; as far as Carleigh knows, she’s getting a ride up with a running buddy who’s also doing the marathon, meeting her parents, doing the actual marathon, then heading back the same way.And she’s nervous.
“You’re going to do great, Carleigh,” I say encouragingly, nudging her half-eaten bowl of pasta toward her.“You have to fuel up.”
She shakes her head and groans, flopping back onto the couch dramatically.“What if I’ve been doing all this running for six months and I get there and I fall in the first mile?And I break my leg and I can’t finish and -”
“Carleigh,” I cut in gently, laughing despite the cross look she gives me.“None of that’s going to happen.”
“What if it does?”
I pat her hand reassuringly.“It won’t.”
Carleigh sighs.She peers at her pasta and then pushes it away.“I can’t finish this,” she whines.“I’m too anxious.”Her eyes flick to me.“Can I - I could use a hug,” she asks lamely.
I smile at her and open my arm.“Anytime, Carleigh, you don’t have to ask.”
Carleigh exhales and shuffles to me on her knees, leaning over a bit until she can slip her arms around my neck.I gently reach over and pull her by her hip until she falls to sit on my lap.Immediately, her arms tighten around me.I put mine around her, too, holding her close and feeling her breathe in and out slowly, calming herself down.She’s dressed pretty casually today, in a blue t-shirt that’s clearly from a vacation to the Grand Canyon and a pair of gray sweatpants, but a few inches of her lower back are exposed by the way she’s sitting, and I take the opportunity to slide my palms against her skin.
“I can’t wait for this to be over,” she mumbles over my shoulder.“The training’s been fun, and I like the challenge, but I’m just tired.”
I rub her back.“You’ve been working hard,” I agree.“Think how good it’ll be to sleep in the day after.”
“Mm.”She presses her face into my t-shirt.“That feels good, Bryson.”
I increase the pressure a little.“Like that?”
Carleigh nods.“Yeah.”She reaches around and pushes my hand higher.“Can you - right between my shoulder blades-”
“Oh - yeah, sure.”My hand drifts past the rough lace and hard satin of her bra and dig in the center of her upper back, pushing against her, and at the same time, pulling her body even more toward mine.She whines a little - a good noise, I think - then her muscles soften, and I notice her relax.
I pull back and turn her upper body to the side, readjusting so she’s sitting on my right leg and leaning the left side of her body against my chest, her left hand in her own lap and her head next to mine.“I swear, Bryson,” she sighs, “you missed your calling as a massage therapist.Or a baker.Would’ve done great at either with strong hands like that.”
I chuckle.“What do I need to be a baker for, Carleigh?”My right hand, now resting lazily against her hip, slides up slightly and tickles her stomach.“I got you.”
She shrieks; she’s incredibly ticklish, something I learned weeks ago, and it’s adorable as hell when she laughs.She pushes at my hand and tries to wiggle away, but I grab her around the middle and pull her back, tickling her again until she gasps, “I give up, I give up!”and hits my hands with her palms.
I obediently stop tickling, but I don’t move my arms from where they are, now locked around her waist, each hand holding the opposite curve.She slumps against me.
