by Piper Lawson
I shake off the stupid thoughts. Once the sound of the shower stops I strip down in the bedroom, tugging my shirt over my head. Dropping it in the basket, I stretch one arm after the other across my chest.
My gaze flicks to the mirror and time stops.
She’s watching me, silently, through the crack in the door. Close enough I can see her eyes.
Every muscle in my body tightens instinctively in anticipation. Hunger curls in my belly like a snake.
All the ease I’d found through the run vanishes.
But Ariel’s already gone and seconds later I hear Spencer’s door close.
Well, shit. I rub a hand through my damp hair and swallow the groan.
I close the door of the washroom behind me. It’s already steamy and the mirror’s covered with fog.
When I get into the shower, step under the water, I can’t fucking help it. Even as I’m pissed at myself for it, I run my hand over my already-hard dick and groan, imagining it’s her. The cool blond in the tight red dress and sneakers.
Imagining her little sounds in my mouth when I kissed her. How tight she’d be when I finally pressed into her.
Stroking down. Down. Down.
Since the only place I can have her is my mind, I make her the way I want. Instead of annoyed, apathetic, she’s wet, hungry. Because she wants it so bad. Because she’s thinking of me. Because I’m all she sees, and in her little rich girl mind, I’m enough.
I’m in the middle of something so don’t have the brain cells to analyze that one.
Instead I run my hand over the head, hiss out a breath.
I remember her eyes the second before she realized I caught her. Wish I had a picture of that moment to tape on my wall.
Because no matter who she is, in real life or in my head? The truth is, she was watching me.
She was watching me.
And she fucking liked it.
Fuuuuck.
I come, all over the tile. Then collapse against the side.
It’s the hardest I’ve come in ages.
Maybe there’s something to this after all, I wonder as I come back to myself. When I’d kissed her at the party, she’d reacted. Unwillingly, but still. Part of her wanted me.
Maybe I’m wrong about her. After today we’ll have nothing in common. Maybe we can go right back in that shower. Today. Together.
When I make it downstairs a few minutes later my imaginings start to disintegrate. Ariel’s hands are balled in fists at her side like she’s nervous. She’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a far cry from last night’s dress or her running clothes from this morning. She looks like a kid, her hair still wet, the color of caramel from the water.
“Chase, I need to ask you something,” she says carefully.
I try to look like I didn’t just jerk off to her. “Yeah?”
But if she asked me to please, Chase, fuck her over the back of the couch, I’m not sure I could say no.
“I want you to train me.”
My body stiffens. And not the good parts. “Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ariel spreads her hands, helpless. “Because you’re the best runner I’ve ever met. Because you’ve won two national championships. Because you’re my last hope to stay on this team. And if I don’t get on this team, then my father will drag me home, and it’ll be a repeat of this summer all over again. And this summer was the worst of my life. I’ll do anything, anything, to avoid that.” Her voice wavers at the end. And there it is. I see it in her eyes. She is running from something.
“Listen, princess. I don’t let anyone into my running. It’s my thing. It’d be like…” I grasp for words. “Like letting someone into my head. I don’t do that.”
“I don’t either,” she says. “But this is my only chance.”
Fuck, she’s stubborn. “I’m not very nice. And I won’t be nice to you.”
“I know you’re not very nice. And I don’t care. A lot of people aren’t very nice to me.”
This sets me back. “Why the hell not?”
“A lot of reasons. Partly because my mom died and it’s my fault.”
I rock back on my heels. So that’s the hurt I see in her eyes.
I don’t want to say yes. Don’t want to train her, see her every day. “You’ll do anything?”
“You want money? I’ll pay you.” She reaches for her bag but I hold up a hand to stop her.
I shake my head. Then reach up to scratch the back of my neck. “I want you to say “Chase, I need your help.”
“That’s it?” She tilts her chin up, crossing her arms over her chest. “Chase…I need your help.”
“Chase, you have the sexiest abs west of Texas.”
Her eyes widen, and some of the sadness falls away and is replaced with disbelief. Just like I wanted. “I’m not saying that.”
“Why not? You saw them, creeper.”
Ariel flushes. Finally, under her breath: “Chase, you have the…sexiest abs west of Texas.” And I love the way she says ‘sexiest’. Like she’s never said the word before. That one’s getting brought out again some cold night.
“Good girl. Last one: Chase, I will do anything you tell me to for the next two weeks.”
“What?” Her face screws up.
“If you aren’t ready to do what I tell you, eat what I tell you, even think what I tell you? You won’t get two seconds faster, not to mention ten. And if you can’t do that it’s not worth my time.”
Her eyes flash. “Fine. I will do whatever you say, Yoda. If you don’t swear so much.” She finishes with the card I don’t expect. “Don’t forget your future on the team rests on this too.”
She isn’t wrong. No matter how I’ve tried, I can’t think of another way to stay in school without Tor’s support.
I sigh. “Don’t fucking remind me, princess.”
Ariel’s making calls again. I have some things to do today and when I go down the hall her door is just ajar and I can see her pacing inside.
“Chase?” She asks when I’m on the way out the door. “You sure you don’t mind if I stay tonight?”
“Yeah. Do you need a ride somewhere?”
She shakes her head, sending blond waves flying. “Thanks, but a friend’s picking me up.” A tiny smile, a gift, a concession, graces the corner of her mouth.
“Listen,” I say. “Since you’re training with me you might as well stay the night. Tomorrow’s going to be tough so at least here you can sleep in a real bed and not on a couch somewhere.”
She hesitates. “Alright. Thanks.”
I spend the morning helping Tor, then running errands. I end up at a café on campus trying to study.
My major’s history but most of it washes together the way it usually does when I read a textbook. Lectures are a little better. It doesn’t matter, because I test and write really fucking well.
The one dark spot: I had to pull out last year, so I’ll probably finish a year behind.
You’re lucky they let you back in at all. Tor reminds me of that every time he sees me. He’s right but I still hate how it all went down.
The book I’m reading’s talking about how people get stigmatized. For their race, class, beliefs. Instead of understanding the emphasis of stigma on the fabric of early 20th century America, I’m thinking about what Ariel said. That it’s her fault her mom died, and that people hate her for it. I don’t know how it’s her fault. Or why I even care.
Maybe because I feel for people who got fucked over, one way or another.
By the end of the day I have a headache and a restlessness I haven’t felt in a while. I find myself wondering if Ariel’s at my place. Hers. If she’s studying. Hell, I don’t even know what she’s taking.
My brain needs to calm down.
The idea of going for another run crosses my mind, but it’s going to tire me out too much.
I know what I need tonight.
I need Ash.
When I get hom
e around ten after picking Ash up, the lights are off. Ariel’s not there. Good.
“I’m glad you called me,” she says as we pull up to my place.
“I’m glad you answered.”
She’s pleased with my response, but it’s true. I’m a creature of habit and today’s not our usual day. But it’s been a weird fucking week. Tor’s ultimatum. Coach Varis’. Having an unwanted blond shadowing me through my private life. Hacking my private dreams.
It’s no wonder I need to blow off steam.
Kicking off her heels at the door, Ash tugs me up the stairs and down the hall. I’m already grabbing at her, digging my fingers into her waist, her back, her ass. She’s moaning and sucking on my tongue.
We fall onto my bed without bothering with the lights. In the darkness it’s easy to imagining my hands are fisting in blond hair, not red.
Whoa. No.
I push the thought away. Ash is on top of me. The hungry noises she’s making don’t sound like Ariel. It makes it harder to pretend.
Which is a good fucking thing, I remind myself as I flip Ash onto her back. Because you’re not pretending.
She works at my belt and shoves my pants down, and I get her skirt up and panties off without bothering with her shirt or bra.
Then I grab a condom and roll it on.
“Damn, you’re worked up tonight, Chase.”
“You fucking love it,” I mutter.
I see her white teeth flash in the darkness. “You know I do.”
Then I flip her so she’s on her knees and thrust into her in a single stroke.
Again.
She cries out. Over and over I pound into her, the slap of skin echoing in my ears until finally heat barrels down my spine and I come, groaning.
A few minutes or hours later we go again. Afterward Ash collapses on the pillow, falling asleep promptly like she always does. I tug on boxers and a muscle tank and get up to use the washroom.
The light in Spencer’s room is on and I find myself pulled down the hall like a moth to a flame.
I didn’t even hear her come home but I push the door open, slowly.
The girl I’ve found myself thinking about more than once today is lying in the bed, a computer open in her lap front of her.
She’s wearing a pink t-shirt and I can’t see what else because she’s under Spence’s plaid duvet.
“I didn’t hear you get back,” I say quietly. The digital clock on Spence’s bedside table says 12:35.
Ariel looks up at me, tucking hair that’d fallen in her face behind her ear. “I was at a movie with my friend.”
“Dave?”
“No, Ben. We go to a movie every week.”
“More boyfriends.” I try not to sound annoyed.
She laughs under her breath. “No. If you met Ben, you’d know what I mean,” she explains at my confused expression. “He knows designer shoes better than I do.”
“I see.”
“So, Tess is still pissed but gave me this.” She nods to her laptop. “Actually, she gave Ben this to give to me.”
Girls are fucking ridiculous.
“What are you thinking?” she asks, eyes narrowing as if she means to pry the truth out of me.
“I’m thinking girls are fucking ridiculous.” I cross my arms, lean against the doorframe.
Ariel opens her mouth. Then pauses. “I was going to say that’s garbage, but actually it’s true sometimes. If she doesn’t let me back in tomorrow, I’m taking it by force.”
The image of her storming her apartment tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Well now you have your computer you can keep up in—“ I pause, raise a brow. “English? Art history? Botany?”
She shakes her head. “Pre-law.”
I whistle, low. “Impressive. So it’s studying that’s keeping you up, Hastings.”
She shifts, uncomfortable. “Well, that and…” she glances toward the hallway.
Shit.
“It’s fine. It’s your house, you’re entitled to do whatever you want in it. And, I mean, the door was open but I –“ she flushes. “I didn’t see anything. Just…heard it. Usually I have my headphones, but they’re at home.”
I don’t reference the fact that she saw me last time. Was watching me. And she doesn’t either.
“You’re more than welcome to join us.”
I regret the casual remark the second I say it, reminding myself she’s not like the girls I hang out with.
“I couldn’t have a threesome. I wouldn’t know where everything goes.” The look on her face tears a laugh from me, despite my intention to keep quiet.
“That’s what’s holding you back?”
“It’s one thing.”
“Fuck, Hastings.” I shake my head. “Alright. What else’s eating you?”
She watches me for a minute. Then sighs, and it’s not a pretty sigh. It’s a real one. The way people who have actual problems sigh.
“My dad. He wants me to move home if I don’t make it on the track team. We don’t live far, about an hour away, but he’s really…protective.”
I sit on the corner of the bed. She notices but doesn’t object. “Only child?”
“Nope. My sister, Larissa, is Greek. That’s why I was at that party.”
I nod. “I have a brother. Drew. He’s twelve.” I don’t know why I’m saying it but her face softens.
That’s why I’m saying it. Because I want her to stop looking so damned worried for a minute.
“Larissa’s older. And my mom…well, you know she died.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m really fucking sorry.”
“It happens. It was a long time ago. When I was a baby. She died from complications from the birth.” She pushes a hand through her hair, sucks in a breath. Her way of dealing I guess. Ariel sets her laptop beside her, leaning forward to wrap her arms around her duvet-covered knees. “You still have both your parents?”
“Sort of. My mom lives in Archer about thirty minutes away. It’s a little town.”
“I know where it is.”
“It’s kind of a shit hole.”
She doesn’t disagree. “What about your dad?”
“He’s in jail.” I wait for the judgement. The questions. Staggeringly, neither comes. I sense it’s not because she doesn’t give a shit. It’s because it doesn’t change anything.
“Everyone’s from somewhere, Chase,” Ariel says like she’s reading my damned mind. “Everyone has history. Everyone has baggage.”
I search her face. “What’s yours?”
Her eyes flick back to the computer and lock on the screen for a second before coming back to me.
I take the hint. “Never mind. I should go. Sleep well, princess.” I put a hand on her feet through the duvet, squeezing before I rise.
For a moment I have the ridiculous idea she’s going to ask me to stay.
But instead she says, “goodnight, Chase.”
~
Surprisingly, Ash is out of bed before me the next day.
After doing my morning routine - pushups, situps, pullups - I dress in running clothes and head downstairs.
That’s when I realize why Ash left.
She’s perched at the kitchen table, sizing up Ariel like it’s the fucking Thunderdome. Ariel’s oblivious, scrubbing at a stain on her trainers in the sink.
When Ash sees me her eyes light up and she rises, crossing to me and winding her arms around my neck. “Your roommate and I were just getting to know each other. We have so much in common.”
It was hard to imagine. “Really.”
“No, it’s true. We like the same music.”
I tilt my head. “What kind of music do you listen to?”
“Rap, of course,” she looks hurt. Then she kisses me, big and wet, and I let her. Then I pull back. “Alright, you gotta go, Ash. Hastings and I need to run.”
“You could run with me,” she says, pouting.
I glance at her outfit, which is the same one from yesterday: a tight
black skirt and matching halter top that pushes her already impressive boobs up and together. I can’t picture her running in that. And fuck me, but I don’t actually know if she actually owns anything else.
“Trust me, Hastings needs the practice more than you do.” I usher her out the door with one more kiss.
“Nice to meet you, Ashley,” Ariel calls.
No response.
I finally turn back toward Ariel.
She’s watching me with a strange expression.
“What?” I demand.
She holds up her hands in surrender, one of them still clutching her running shoe. “Nothing. I just wondered what your type was.”
“And?”
Her voice drops to a stage whisper. “Have you seen her boobs? Does she need a permit for those things?” Ariel asks, her eyebrows up in her hair.
I like that she can joke about it, and can’t help grinning as I reach around her to grab a glass from the shelf over the sink. “Yeah, I’ve seen them. That’s kind of the point, you know. Ash gets what she wants and I do too.”
“What do you want?” she asks.
I cross the kitchen to open the fridge. “Release. Vent some steam. Running thirty miles a week makes me horny as fuck.”
Something clatters and I look up. She’s retrieving her phone from where it fell to the floor.
“Sorry, I just—“ she clears her throat. Maybe she’s not as cool as I thought.
“Watch the dirt,” I say, nodding to her shoes. “Man of the house will chew you up if you mess the place up.”
“The mysterious Spencer is a neat freak, huh?”
I shoot her a look. “I was talking about me.”
Her mouth quirks up at the corner like she’s amused. “Interesting,” she says slowly. “I’ll add that to my file.” I don’t get the chance to ask why because Ariel lets out a little groan and rubs her eyes. “I need coffee before we run.”
“Two blocks that way.” I point before going back to the fridge.
If I’m starting to run again in a competitive way, I need to get some better food. My mind’s going through bars, supplements, drinks, and gels as I hear the door close behind her. I make a list in my head since I don’t need to write it down and take a seat at the table, drinking the last of the orange juice from the fridge.
