Jack was there, his chest bare and tan, smiling at the dolphin. He looked up too, catching my eye. Slowly his smile faded, and his gaze became intent. “I want to kiss you,” he breathed quietly across the water.
His words and the intense way he said them, pounded into me, each one a fist that slowly took ahold of something deep inside. My breath caught. I stared back at him. I think I tried to form some words after a few moments but couldn’t, and then he faded away. The glittering of the sun on the water grew brighter. I blinked a few times and opened my eyes as the morning light in my bedroom crossed my face.
It was another warm fall day. I shifted my gaze out the windows where the light filtered through the branches of the huge Live Oak in the front yard. The draped Spanish moss slowly swayed in the breeze. At least the air was moving more today, maybe it wouldn’t be so hot.
I thought about Jack in his bed and whether he had remembered to close the blinds. If he had, he may not wake up and get over here before I had to leave for work.
We hadn’t really worked out a plan of how and when he would come over today. Riding his motorcycle might draw too much attention. I guessed he would jog over again, but maybe I should go and get him. I dropped that idea as soon as it crossed my mind. If he showed up, that was great. If not, then I guess that meant he was getting his shopping done elsewhere. That thought filled me with the appropriate dread expected of a miserable groupie.
I hadn’t heard back from him after my last text.
I sat up abruptly, mentally pulling myself together. I had made it through some pretty traumatic experiences in my life. I was definitely beyond being a sappy little mess who was grateful for a scrap of time and attention from a divine being like Jack Eversea.
I would reap the benefits of our little arrangement as long as it lasted. I would be thoughtful and courteous of Jack’s time, and I definitely would not expect us to form any deep or emotional bond of friendship when our time was up. The fact that electric heat tended to zap through my veins at the sight or thought of him, something I liked to think of as the “swoon-effect’, was just a hazard I would have to weather.
I needed a run. I threw on a sports bra and my running shorts, grabbed my iPod and earphones, and jogged out to the truck.
Normally, I would go straight down Palmetto to the public beach access and start my run by turning right. But, I didn’t want to run past Jack’s house, so I went further down to the Islanders’ Beach and after parking and jogging down the boardwalk, I turned left. It would be a short run that would end at the inlet, but at least I was getting some exercise and clearing my head.
The sea was getting cooler even though our days were still warm. There was a haze over the water. One or two people were out with their dogs, but the beach was mainly empty.
I got into a great rhythm, my strides long and sure, my breathing even and deep. I made it about half a mile before an approaching figure in black shorts and a white t-shirt with familiar aviators came into view ahead. I slowed a tiny bit, wondering if it was Jack. Shit, I knew it was. Should I acknowledge him or stop and talk to him? Damn it. This was supposed to be a Jack-free run. I should have gone kayaking instead.
I could tell when he noticed me, as he did the same thing where he slowed slightly, and then picked his pace back up. When he was about fifteen yards away, I gave up my internal battle about what to do and smiled politely at him. He didn’t slow like he was going to stop. So I didn’t either. Seriously? Were we really just going to run right past each other without saying hello?
My spirits sank with disappointment when he passed me, much as I hated myself for it. But then a few seconds later he appeared up alongside me. I snuck a sidelong glance at his profile trying to form a question with my eyebrows. His dimple quirked but he didn’t say anything. Okay then. I affected a nonchalant shrug, turned my music up and picked up the pace.
He’d obviously already run to the inlet and was headed home, and he was going to have to double his run to keep me company. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but I wasn’t going to try and talk and break my running mojo. When he was around I didn’t think I could walk and chew gum at the same time, let alone run, talk, breathe, and try not to trip over my own feet.