He looks up and dazzles me with his smile, reserved only for women. How come he’s all bright eyed and bushy tailed? ‘I’m going for a run.’ He bends back down, and I notice he’s tying his trainers.
When he’s finished, he stands up, the full six foot three inches of lean loveliness, all the more lovely in loose, black running shorts and a marl grey vest. I lick my lips and smile admiringly. He has stubble. I could eat him.
‘I’m quite enjoying the view too.’ he says cheerfully. I snap my eyes to his, noting him staring at my chest with an arched brow and a half smile on his handsome face. I follow his gaze and find the cups of my bra are still sitting under my boobs. I leave them as they are, rolling my eyes.
‘What time is it?’ I suddenly have a stomach turning panic moment.
‘Five.’
I gape at him, all wide eyed, before dramatically collapsing back onto the bed. Five? I have at least another hour of sleep. I pull the sheets over my head and close my eyes. But I only get, roughly, three seconds of shut eye, before the sheets are whipped off of me and Jesse is in my face, a wickedly mischievous grin plastered all over his face. I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to pull him down to me, but he pulls against me, and I end up in a standing position before I realise what’s happened.
‘You’re coming,’ he informs me, snapping the cups of my bra back over my boobs. ‘Come on.’ He turns, heading for the bathroom.
I scoff indignantly. ‘No, I’m bloody not.’ He must be mad. I don’t mind a run, but not at five in the morning. ‘I run in the evenings.’ I advise his back, falling back to the bed. I crawl to the top and snuggle back down into the pillows, locating the one that smells the most of fresh water and mint. I’m rudely interrupted from my peace when he grabs my ankle and yanks me to the bottom of the bed. ‘Hey!’ I shout. I manage to take the pillow with me. ‘I’m not coming.’
He leans over, whips the pillow away and narrows his eyes on me. ‘Yes, you are. Mornings are better. Get ready.’ He flips me over and smacks my backside.
‘I don’t have my running kit.’ I say smugly, just as a sports bag lands on the bed next to me. He brought me running kit? ‘You brought these for me?’ I ask incredulously as I sit up. That’s a bit presumptuous. Maybe I don’t like running.
‘I saw your trainers in your room. They’re wrecked. You’ll damage your knees if you keep running in them.’ He stands with his arms folded, waiting for me to change.
It’s the crack of dawn. I’m not even awake yet, and he wants me pounding the pavements and puffing myself out through the streets of London before I’ve even done a day’s work?
Unreasonable!
He sighs, walking over to the sports bag and pulling out all sorts or running paraphernalia. He hands me a sports bra on a smirk. Oh, he really has thought of everything. I snatch it from his hands and remove my lace bra, replacing it with a reinforced shock absorber. My boobs aren’t so big that they need strapping down. Next, he passes me a pair of black running shorts – the same as his but the ladies version – and a fitted, pink running vest. I dress myself under his watchful eye. I can’t believe he’s dragging me out for a run at this time of day.
‘Sit.’ He points to the bed. I sigh dramatically, plonking myself on the end. ‘I’m ignoring you.’ he grumbles as he kneels in front of me, lifting one foot at a time to put breathable running socks on and a rather swanky pair of black, Nike, running shoes. He can ignore me all he likes. I’m not happy, and I want him to know it.
When he’s done, he pulls me up, stands back and runs his gaze up and down my sporty clad body. He nods his approval. Yes, I certainly look the part, but I’ve always just thrown on my baggy sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. I don’t want to look better than I actually am. I’m not bad, though.
‘Can I use your toothbrush?’ I ask, sidestepping him and heading for the bathroom.