He smiled as I said it, and he nodded his head in agreement. “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’ll finish these delectable sandwiches, and then we’ll get on the hood of the car for the sunrise. I may kiss you once or twice just for old time’s sake, and then I’ll drop you off at your car so you can get to work. Then I’ll come back up here, paint the bench, and I’ll put my final words to you on it. Then it’s completely up to you whether or not you come back here to see it. But the words will be for you. It’s your bench.”
I smiled as we finished our food.
“It’s time,” he said, jumping up from our seat. He reached out his hand and I placed mine in his. Together we walked back to his SUV. He quickly spread the blanket out over the hood as we climbed on top of it, getting into position.
We laid together in silence, staring at the orange and purple streaks creeping over the mountaintops. A few faint stars still twinkled above our heads, just minutes away from being swallowed up by the start of yet another morning. I wished in that moment that I could be swallowed up too, disappearing from the rest of the day.
“I’m glad I met you,” I said quietly.
“Me too,” Ben uttered back, squeezing my hand.
We continued to lay on the hood of his car in silence, and my mind swirled.
“Do you already know what you’re going to write on the bench?” I questioned, turning my head towards Ben.
“I have some ideas,” he said sincerely.
“Will you do me a favor?”
“Of course,” he replied sweetly. “Anything.”
“Don’t give me a reason to still think about you when you’re gone.”
CHAPTER 27
Ben and I parted ways without any dramatics. There was one lingering kiss and then that was it; he was out of my life. I felt changed somehow, but I didn’t know what that meant. Had I finally let my walls down enough to care about someone? Part of me felt relieved and hopeful to think that was even possible for me. But there was still a sting to Ben’s departure, making me self-aware that some time on my own for awhile may be good for me.
After work, just as Steve promised in the marathon itinerary he made me, we met up with all of our friends at an Italian restaurant called Vincenzos. It was a beautiful local spot we loved coming to, and the familiarity of its walls embraced our friendship. We ate pasta and laughed together, and my world felt completely back on its axis. I never even mentioned my morning with Ben; it just didn’t seem necessary. This moment - these people - this was how I wanted every day to play out. Laughter and old stories. Warm hugs and promises to see everyone the following night. For a girl who lately wasn’t sure of what she wanted, I did know one thing: it looked very much like this night.
The following evening was similar, as we all met at Luca’s for a big celebratory dinner. Our friends were proud of our dedication to run the half-marathon, and we sat together eating plates of spaghetti. Mallory and Greyson cooked the entire meal for us, including appetizers and desserts, and like so many times before, we sat reminiscing for hours. It was so easy to do with people I had known forever, and it never got old. This was pure happiness for me.
As the evening came to an end, we slowly made our way out to the parking lot.
“No wine the last two nights with dinner?” Steve said with a raised brow. “You’re really taking this home stretch seriously.”
“Nah, it’s not that,” I replied honestly. “I’m just trying to slow down a little I guess. I think you guys are right. All of the partying, and the drinking… I know I’m getting too old to be doing that five nights a week.”
“So I shouldn’t be asking you to grab that bottle of scotch from your apartment to come back to my place?” he said with an animated, suggestive shrug.
“That’s probably not a good idea,” I said hesitantly. The thought of drinking too much scotch and staying up late with Steve, alone I might add, just sounded like a risky idea. There was still this electricity between us ever since the camping trip. In order to figure out exactly what I wanted, I knew I needed some distance. Between alcohol and the possibility of his shirt coming off at some point, I knew my restraint would weaken, and I didn’t want to risk it.
“Do you need a ride back home Meg, or are you going with Steve?” Mallory asked, joining in our conversation as our other friends started getting in their own cars.
“Come with me, Meg. Please? We can watch a movie?” Steve suggested. “I miss our hang-outs.”
“I’m kind of tired, so I think I’ll just head back with Mallory,” I replied, giving Steve an apologetic glance. “Maybe next week?”
“Sure,” he responded, sounding a little disappointed. “Will I at least see you tomorrow though? It’s our last day before the marathon. Weren’t we going to hang out?”
“Actually I was going to spend most of the day at the shelter tomorrow, since I’m missing my volunteer time on Sunday for the race. Can we just meet up Sunday morning by that tree we warm up next to for our runs? The race starts at seven, so we can meet up around six-thirty?”
“Okay,” Steve replied, sounding defeated. “I guess I’ll just see you then.”
I climbed in Mallory’s car and she drove me home. I was relieved we didn’t really talk about the situation. I didn’t know what to tell myself about it, let alone how I would explain my thoughts to someone else.
Saturday I put in nine hours at the shelter, which felt amazing. I had to admit though, there was a small piece of my heart missing without Lucy there. A new dog already occupied her kennel, which got me a little choked up, but I kept it together pretty well. I stayed really busy, which helped. I worked with the other staff members to reorganize some of the animal rooms and planned out another adoption event. I also signed up for a weekday volunteer shift, agreeing to work three hours every Wednesday evening. When I wasn’t with my friends, it was the best way I knew how to spend my spare time. I also knew it would be a good way for me to stay out of trouble.
Saturday night when I got home, I was secretly hoping for a note from Steve. Or maybe even just a phone message. Instead there was no contact from him at all. I tried my best not to think much about it, and opted for a long bath and a sappy romance book. I felt relaxed and my mind was calm, and whatever anxiety I had about it drifted away as soon as I crawled into my bed.
Sunday morning finally rolled around, and I was pleased by the nine hours of sleep I got before waking up at five-thirty in the morning.
I got dressed for the race, methodically prepping for everything I needed to do and bring with me to the marathon. I was prepared for this, right? Steve and I had been running together almost all summer, until our snags the last few weeks. Steve. At the thought of him my mind started racing again, and I knew I needed to try and push those thoughts out of my head. It was race day, which I had trained so hard for. I had always wanted to run a half-marathon, and possibly a full one in the future. I knew any other thoughts would have to wait.
When I arrived at our meeting place promptly at six-thirty, Steve was already there. I knew Mallory was on her way as well; she agreed to help us out by holding some various unneeded items once the race began. The morning was crisp so we both had sweatshirts on, but we knew we would want to shed them before the marathon started.
“Do you feel ready for this?” he asked with his warm, genuine smile.
“I did an hour ago, but now that I’m here I feel terrified,” I answered honestly.
“Remember that bet we made earlier when you dared me to run this with you?” he asked.
“What bet?”
“If I beat you, you owe me a hundred bucks,” he answered warmly.
“Please, you get winded way faster than I do,” I teased. “You’re on. There’s no way you’re winning that bet.”
“Well then let’s sweeten the pot, shall we?” he suggested, raising his brows.
“I’m listening,” I replied, bending down to stretch.
“If I win, you hang out at m
y place tonight. We can stay up late eating junk food, watching movies… You can stay the night, just like we used to do all the time. You can wake up on my couch with that cute little drool spot you leave on one of my pillows.”
I laughed, appreciative of his sense of humor. “Well what if I win? What do I get?”
“I’ll stay at your place then, I’m fine with that,” he said, shrugging with a smile as he stretched.
“Steve, do you really think that’s a good idea? The last few times we’ve been alone together, we seem to forget we’re just friends.” I had to admit, I missed hanging out with him. We had so much fun together even if we were just lying around on his couch.
As if it was perfectly timed, Mallory walked up and joined us right in the middle of the conversation.
“What do you think, Mallory? Do you think Meg could keep her hands off me if I allow her to stay the night at my place tonight?” Steve asked with an amused grin.
Mallory almost spit out her coffee. “What?”
“You’ve stayed with me plenty of times, Meg. I don’t know what you’re hoping for, but it’s a totally innocent request on my part. I promise. And if you win, it’s your choice. We can go anywhere you want. I promise, I just want to hang out with you tonight. Just you and me. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“Like I trust you,” I muttered sarcastically.
“What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t trust me?” he asked, looking for approval.
“No, I don’t,” I responded with a smirk.
“Come on, that’s not fair. You trust people you don’t even know. Remember that one spring break when we rented that house down in Malibu? Some random guy pulled up in a fancy car asking if he could drive you off into the sunset. And you let him, without even thinking about it. You literally got into his car and drove away. That is the exact situation in which you shouldn’t trust someone.”
“It was a Maserati, Steve,” I interjected.
“So? What’s your point? What is that supposed to mean? He was a random stranger. Who knows what could’ve happened to you that night.”
“What’s my point? Nobody gets murdered in a Maserati, Steve,” I protested.
“Your naivety astounds me.” He threw up his arms in disbelief.
“Actually I’m pretty sure she has you there,” Mallory chimed in. “I’ve never seen that on the news before.”
“I’m just trying to make a point,” Steve said honestly, staring at me.
“Yep, just Googled it. No Maserati murders,” Mallory interrupted, scrolling down on her phone. I smirked.
“Geez, you women are crazy. Look Meg, I’m just trying to say that you aren’t nervous to get into a car with a complete stranger in an unknown town, but yet you’re nervous to come back with me to my place? You trust people you don’t even know, but you don’t trust me? I sincerely hope you know that I completely respect whatever it is that you don’t want to happen.” Steve didn’t take his gaze off me.
“That’s what I’m terrified of,” I said reluctantly. “I do trust you.”
Without warning, Steve leaned down and kissed me. Not just a light, simple peck - but more like the kiss we shared the other day on the boat dock. It was slow and intense. My body felt on fire.
“Then start learning to trust yourself,” he said, whispering in my ear.
CHAPTER 28
Before I could respond coherently to Steve’s gesture, a loud buzzer sounded, notifying all of the runners to get in place. We loaded our morning sweatshirts and water bottles into Mallory’s bag and took our places amongst the fifteen thousand other runners.
Within about ninety seconds, the race started. I turned on my iPod, hoping to get through this half-marathon without thoughts of Steve’s kiss. My mind raced, and I felt flustered.
“Let me guess, you don’t want to talk while we run?” I heard Steve say over the music playing in my eardrums. I muted the song.
“We have over thirteen miles to run. We should probably save our breath,” I responded, not really believing my own words. Steve and I talked plenty on our previous long runs together without getting extremely winded. But after the conversation we already had this morning, followed by that kiss, I felt like I needed some silence. I was always able to think more clearly while running. Maybe by the end of the race I would have my life figured out. It didn’t seem likely, but I had to be hopeful.
Unfortunately the race was more grueling than I imagined. Sweat poured down every part of my body, and my feet ached tremendously. Steve looked like he was handling it better than I was. He smiled as he looked at me, and I couldn’t fathom how anyone could be smiling after running for eleven miles.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked sweetly. “We’re almost there, just a couple more miles.” His breathing sounded heavy, and I was relieved to hear that maybe this was taking a toll on him as well. “If you need to stop and take a quick break, I’ll stop with you. Just let me know.”
“Thanks, but if I stop I don’t think my limbs will work again,” I replied, trying to take deep breaths. “Besides, why would you stop with me? Aren’t you hell-bent on beating my time?”
“Who says I still won’t?” he teased. “I may sprint it out at the end. You never know what I’m capable of.”
“If you beat me, we’ll keep the bet. I’ll go wherever you want. But if I beat you, I choose where we go. And it’s not back to my apartment.”
“Fair enough,” he replied, wiping some sweat off of his brow.
We went back to running in silence, and this time it was out of necessity. My lungs burned, my legs felt like they were moving on their own, and I was eighty percent certain I would throw up before I crossed the finish line.
As we made it past the twelfth mile, I felt a surge of energy. I was so close to completing a long time goal of mine, and I felt empowered. I felt like I had purpose. I felt sure of something I was doing - a feeling I hadn’t had in awhile.
Pavement.
I can’t say for sure what even happened, but before I knew it, my right ankle buckled and I hit the ground. Blood poured out of my left shin and tears pooled in my eyes. My left cheek stung from hitting the asphalt. It took Steve a few seconds to even realize that I was no longer running next to him.
Some of the marathon crew members ran out to check on me. Steve knelt down by me, pushing back the hair from my face.
“Are you okay? What happened? What hurts?” he asked frantically.
“Everything hurts,” I moaned. “Mostly my pride, but my ankle is excruciating. I don’t know what happened, it just buckled. If I literally just fell on one of the banana peels these runners are throwing around, kill me.”
Additional marathon volunteers gathered around me, helping me up. I couldn’t put much weight on my right ankle, and it was already swelling.
“Go finish the race,” I motioned to Steve, who was steadying me as I stood on one foot.
“Yeah right, I’m not leaving you.”
“The finish line is less than half a mile from here, I can see it. At least go finish the race and then you can come back for me. I’ll borrow a phone from someone and I’ll call Mallory. You need to finish,” I repeated.
“No I don’t, Meg. I’m only running this for you. I’m not finishing without you.”
“Steve, please,” I began. “It would be stupid not to, the end is right there.” I pointed my arm out in front of us. “I’m fine, I got this.” I tried hobbling to the side of the road in an effort to get out of the way.
“Shit, Meg, no. I’m not going. I know you think you can do everything on your own. But you can’t. You literally can’t walk, I’m not leaving you here.”
“I’m not going to let my ankle ruin this for you. If you don’t start running, then I’m crawling to the finish line myself.”
“Meg, you are so stubborn. Just let me help you,” he pleaded.
“Go,” I urged.
He stood there for a moment, looking conflicted. Without warning, he
picked me up by the waist and scooped up my legs.
“What are you doing?” I asked with a stern expression.
“We’re doing this together. I know you think you can do everything on your own. But we’re doing this together.” He walked towards the finish line, carrying me in his arms. I was a little embarrassed by it. The blood from my shin was dripping all over his shorts, and the sweat from my arms made it hard for him to hold me. But his strong arms held me tight anyway, and together we made our way towards the end.
“Steve, you didn’t have to do this,” I said looking up at him. “I could’ve figured something out.”
He walked a bit further, then set me down about ten feet from the finish line.
“Meg, really? Don’t you get it? You do need someone. Even if you think you can do everything on your own, you don’t have to.”
“You’re leaving me right here?” I asked, watching him slowly walk backwards towards the finish line.
“Say it,” he said. “Say you need me.”
“Come on, this is ridiculous.”
“Say you need me. Just say it, and I’ll put you on the other side of the line first. You can beat me. You can win, you can call the shots, I don’t care about any of that. Just say you need me, Meg. For one, brief second in your life, need me.” He threw his hands up in the air, looking defeated.
“Steve, I…” I was scared to utter the words.
“Fine, we’ll do this. You can’t go anywhere, so this is happening. I want to clear the air here. I want to say what you never let me say, and you can’t run away from me, so here goes. I know I’m just a normal guy, Meg. No one is writing fairytales about me, I get that. You’re into mortgage brokers and investment bankers, and I’m just a guy who works with my hands. I get dirty. But that’s what I do, and I love it. And I know I don’t drive a Maserati, Meg. I never will. But my old Jeep? When I’m driving with the top down and my best friends in the back seat on our way to the beach, that’s as good as it gets for me. That’s enough. And I don’t know why I’m always fighting so hard to be enough for you.” He sounded frustrated as he spoke.
Six Reasons Page 14
