In Tandem

by Christina C Jones

  He scoffed. “You know… B, your guess is as good as mine. But it's done now. And I haven't raced for a prize since then. Because I know the shit isn’t okay.”

  “You’re still doing it?” I asked, suddenly wondering about the speed and stamina he'd shown on the way here. I had admired that about him, that he'd been able to get back up and become the same athlete he’d been before, all over again.

  But it was built on a lie.

  “No,” he answered immediately. “Not in a long ass time, not that it makes the shit better. It was just for training. Just to get past what the accident did, so I could… work. But I know what's done is done, and I know it's not fair to the other riders. So I removed myself from the equation. I won't race again.” He blew out a ragged sigh. “And somehow… it still doesn't make it feel any better. I don't feel any less guilty for it.”

  “I… don't know what to say,” I told him. “I don't know what you want me to say to you.”

  “I don't know what you should say either,” he shrugged. “You pressed me for an answer, and I gave it. And now… I'm going to take a shower.”

  He left me standing there in the hall that led to both bedrooms, with my head swirling with questions and confusion. I went to take my own shower, letting the conversation replay in my mind while I immersed myself under the hot spray of water.

  I couldn't believe he’d done that shit.

  Integrity was built into the core of any professional athlete.

  It had to be.

  Not just athletes, but anybody who was doing something that involved living out their passion.

  Cheating wasn't an option.

  Raf had never been one to engage in the legal things he could do in races to not necessarily up his own chances, but to lower his competitors’. He’d always raced with integrity.

  Always.

  So for him to stand in my face and tell me he'd done something so drastic, so unforgivable as far as the sport was concerned…

  That wasn't the Raf I knew and loved.

  But… it wasn't like he’d done it just to give himself some competitive edge. He was trying to recover from a horrific accident that could've left him unable to get back on the bike at all, whether he wanted to or not.

  He was just trying to heal.

  Still… as he’d acknowledged, steroids weren’t the type of thing where you were one-and-done. Just because it was out of your system, just because it wouldn't show up on a drug test, didn't mean you hadn't already reaped the benefits. And no matter how you wanted to spin it… it wasn't playing fair.

  It was all fucked up.

  Besides his obvious trauma from the accident, and the potential for getting back on the bike to trigger what had to be awful memories, he'd been living with the guilt of doing something wrong just to get back to doing something he loved.

  It must have been eating away at him.

  That's why he seemed so much older now - why he seemed so weary.

  I wondered if his parents knew about this steroids thing. There was no way they could have known beforehand, no way they wouldn't have talked him out of something like that. So they'd undoubtedly been bombarding him with pressure too.

  I… couldn’t stay mad at him.

  Not knowing what he'd been facing on his own.

  I got out of the shower and dressed in comfortable clothes, heading to the kitchen where I pulled out one of the pre-prepared meals I’d selected when I first made our reservation. I decided not to bother Raf, to let him have whatever time to himself he needed after revealing himself like that.

  He didn’t take long though.

  He emerged from his room in sweats and a t-shirt, hands stuck deep in his pockets. Eyes uncertain.

  “Hey,” I said from my seat at the counter, looking up from my cell phone. “You good?”

  What a stupid ass question.

  Of course he wasn't good.

  But he nodded anyway, because that was who he was - never wanting me to be concerned about him, even when I had plenty of cause for it.

  “Are we good?” he countered my question, stopping at the edge of the kitchen.

  “When have we ever not been?” I asked, frowning. “Am I disappointed? Yes, I am. It really blows me that you would do something like that without considering the long-term consequences. But the fact that you feel bad about it… that you feel guilty enough to not race again… that says a whole lot more about your character to me, than a decision you made during the hardest time of your life. So of course we're good. Come here,” I said, holding out my arms.

  And of course he did, wrapping me in a tight hug and not letting go for a long time.

  But I didn't mind that.

  Not at all.

  He smelled so good, sweet and spicy and earthy, and I could certainly handle living with that in my nostrils for a while. But… he felt good too, felt like safety and comfort and home, and I wasn’t about to cut that feeling short unprompted.

  But at some point it had to end, obviously.

  When he finally pulled back, he didn't immediately let me go. Instead he took a moment, staring at me again like I was something he’d never seen before.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Just… for being you,” he answered, and I smiled.

  But he still didn't let me go.

  He leaned in, pressing his lips to my forehead for a soft kiss. And then… he leaned a little further, dipping his head to press his lips to my lips, still soft but not at all as usual as the forehead kiss had been.

  No… this was different.

  This was brand new.

  This was… confusing, and arousing, and completely opposite of anything he and I were supposed to be doing.

  But I didn't want it to stop.

  In fact, I moved my arms from where they’d been around his waist to reach up, raking my fingers through the soft coils of his facial hair to pull him closer as I kissed him back.

  I'd never indulged any fantasies about Raf, despite my practical knowledge that he was a good-looking man. Now though, I wondered how I'd missed how completely kissable his lips were, or the broadness of his shoulders as I draped my arms across them, or how good the heat of his body felt between my legs as he pressed closer.

  His tongue slipped into my mouth, warm and sweet, and I gladly welcomed it, massaging it with mine. His hands went to my hips, gripping and pulling me closer as the kiss deepened.

  And then the oven timer went off.

  We snatched away from each other like we were on fire, and I immediately went to the oven to pull the pan of chicken spaghetti out.

  I swallowed, hard. “Are you hungry?” I asked, desperate to put my energy and attention into something, anything, other than acknowledging what had just happened between us.

  “I could eat,” he said, from so far away that I turned around to find him all the way in the living room.

  “Okay,” I nodded. “I'll fix us some plates.”

  I turned back to the stove, busying myself with the food. But nothing I did could stop the pleasant tingling sensation that still lingered at my lips.

  Raf had kissed me.

  And I had kissed him back.

  What the fuck have we done?

  Chapter Eight

  Nobody cares about your skin as much as you do.

  Nobody cares about your skin as much as you do.

  I repeated those words to myself in the mirror as I surveyed my appearance.

  You’d think that after the encounter with Tiffany yesterday, I’d still be basking in the confidence and self-worth I’d encouraged in her. But the way my insecurity was set up…

  Shit.

  I'd purposely chosen something that would push my boundaries of comfort, since I felt like there was no point in coming on the trip if I wasn't going to really go for it. There was just so much skin showing in the flowy tank top and cutoff shorts I’d packed for this last night here at Sugar Valley. In the morning, it would be back t
o bike gear for the ride back to the Heights, which we were taking on all in one day instead of splitting it like we did on the way here.

  Oh!

  And we were pretending the kiss hadn't happened, apparently.

  I couldn't tell if Raf was just following my lead or not, but he hadn't said anything about it all day, and I certainly wasn't about to be the one to bring it up. We’d served up dinner afterward and went about that pretty awkwardly until we called it a night. The next morning - this morning – we’d gone out and explored the town. We’d toured an abandoned vineyard, and gone on another hike - anything we could do to stay too busy to have to address the huge we're supposed to just be friends elephant in the room.

  And now we were going out for drinks.

  Just at Maple, the restaurant and bar attached to the main lodge. Everyone else seemed to take it as a very casual thing, so I didn't feel like my tank top and shorts were necessarily out of place.

  I just felt so… completely exposed.

  But I couldn't keep being a coward.

  Or can I?

  As if to answer my question, my phone pinged a few seconds later, while I was still staring myself down in the mirror. I went for it, my eyes growing big at the sight of a text from Jules.

  “You killed this shit Britt! – Jules.”

  “Sneak peek. – Jules.”

  There was a picture attached, and I couldn’t tap it fast enough, anxious to see this sneak peek I hadn’t expected.

  As soon as it filled my screen, I gasped.

  Seeing myself in the mirror in that lingerie was one thing.

  Seeing myself as the camera did, with everything perfectly staged - hair and makeup done, with this sultry expression I barely recognized on my face…

  I was hot.

  I was really, really hot.

  I couldn’t help the loud squeal that ripped from my throat, and a moment later there was a knock at the door to my room. I rushed out of the bathroom, phone in hand to snatch open my door and shove the screen in Raf’s face.

  “Look at this,” I said.

  At first, he reeled back, not knowing what the hell was going on. But then he recovered, looking confused as hell as he took the phone from me to see what I was talking about. I stared in his face, not wanting to miss a single second of his reaction.

  “Fuck,” he mouthed, very subtly - something I wouldn't have seen if I hadn't been watching him so close. He quickly fixed his face though, clearing the initial lustful reaction from his eyes before he put on his usual dazzling smile. “B, this is hot,” he told me, handing the phone back. “I'm proud of you for going on and going through with it. And look how it turned out!”

  “Right?!” I gushed. “These last few days have been like… the best time of my life. First you show up out of the blue. I get to do this photoshoot and it actually turns out well. And then yesterday, meeting that little girl and getting to have that experience of actually inspiring somebody…”

  And I know you're not going to forget that kiss, right?

  I immediately cleared that thought away. Obviously, the kiss had been an embarrassing fluke, and there was no way I was about to mess up the vibe of this moment worrying about that.

  “I'm happy for you,” Raf said, pulling me into a swift half hug. “You deserve it.”

  “Thank you,” I said, beaming up at him.

  “Is that what was taking you so long to get ready? You in here looking at yourself?” he teased.

  “No, actually,” I corrected him. “I was in here taking so long because I was busy picking myself apart and rethinking my entire life. You know, the usual steps to get ready to go out?”

  “Uh-huh,” he laughed. “Well, you look good. Now can we go have these drinks, so we can get our asses back here, and get some rest for this ride tomorrow?”

  “I know you're not rushing me,” I said. “You're the one who wanted to go back up on the mountain, and go do this, and go do that all these tiring things.”

  He put a hand to his chest. “I'm just trying to make the most of the trip,” he said. “Maximizing memories.”

  More like keeping us distracted.

  “Uh-huh,” was what actually came out of my mouth. “Let's go.”

  “So what are you going to do now?” I asked, nudging Raf’s shoulder.

  We were seated at the bar at Maple, tucked into a little quiet corner to ourselves while the rest of the bar socialized around us - playing darts, dancing, singing along to the music, yelling at whatever sports rotated onto the big screen TVs. I didn't want to do any of those things, I just liked the atmosphere it created.

  Perfect for me to force addressing the unspoken question between us.

  Well, one of them.

  I still wasn't bringing that damn kiss up.

  Raf shrugged and then picked his glass up, taking a sip from his Mauve and coke. “I've been thinking about that, actually. Where I want to live, what I want to do with my life moving forward. That's been on my mind a lot.”

  “Well yeah, I'd hope,” I teased. “I mean, your bills are going to have to get paid somehow, right?”

  Raf chuckled. “Yeah, somehow. I've got savings though,” he assured me. “Enough that I don't really have to be worried about money for a while.”

  “That's good,” I told him. “That means you can focus on something you're passionate about. Something else you're passionate about,” I amended my words.

  Ever since I’d known Raf, cycling was his thing. His first love, and the love of his life. As heartbreaking as it was that he was now in a position where he was forced to give it up - professionally at least - I knew there were other things Raf enjoyed. Other things he was good at, that could at least help fill the void.

  “I think I'm going to tear some shit up,” he mused, and I frowned.

  “Okay… you know I'm going to need some clarification for that, right?” I asked, the confusion in my tone making him laugh.

  “My bad,” he said. “You know I told you I ran into Sean Keahi that first day I got here? That's just been on my mind since then. How good it used to feel to just walk onto the construction site where something needs to be demolished or destroyed and just work out all that aggression.”

  “I see… so that's what you’re thinking about now? You want to renovate houses?” I asked. “Or do you just want to destroy the houses?”

  “I’m not going to front with you – right now, it’s more about tearing shit up,” he admitted. “But… it wouldn't be so bad to find something I can make my own. Something in bad shape, that I can rebuild from nothing, you know?”

  I grinned. “Are you getting all metaphorical on me again?” I asked.

  “Not intentionally, but if the shoe fits...” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m in a position where I have to have this conversation right now you know? This whole what's next talk shouldn't be happening for another… ten years, or some shit. But I fucked it up. And now look where I am.”

  “You were going through probably the toughest time in your life. I'm not trying to excuse it, or make it out to suddenly be okay,” I assured. “I'm just saying it’s understandable.”

  “Being understandable doesn't make it right though.” Raf leaned back, finishing off the rest of his drink.

  Silence lingered between us, and I let it, because I didn't know what to say.

  What the hell was I supposed to say?

  We both knew it was wrong.

  We both know how badly he’d fucked up.

  What was really the point of dwelling on it, now that it was done?

  Before the silence became awkward and I had to say something to fill the space, applause erupted around the bar. I glanced to where the commotion was coming from, looking back just in time to see a woman flinging herself into a man's arms for a hug as the people around them clapped. My gaze zeroed in on her hands as she flexed her fingers to admire what was undoubtedly a brand-new ring.

  A proposal.

  I smiled a bit
as I turned back to the bar to take a long swig from my drink. It wasn't that I had anything against love - love was beautiful. But I'd be lying if I said that watching other people being loved while I was still struggling to find someone I liked well enough to get to that place wasn’t a little bit disheartening.

  “What's with that look on your face?” Raf asked, nudging me with his knee. “You used to be a whole sap, you loved stuff like that.”

  “I still do,” I admitted. “But I don't know… I just…I know I'm way too young to be worried about this, but I wonder if it'll ever happen for me, you know?” I explained. “Every relationship I get into always fails so spectacularly that it doesn’t feel like a possibility for me.”

  “Join the club,” Raf said, motioning for the bartender to bring us fresh drinks, though we’d already passed our agreed-upon two-each threshold. “All those international girls, they only want me for my body. This brooding, emo personality doesn't do shit for them.”

  I laughed. “Oh I find that incredibly hard to believe,” I teased them. “You’re like a straight to streaming romantic movie wet dream. We’re gonna put you in an abandoned lighthouse or something by the sea. You can renovate it. We’ll make you a widower. It would break viewing records.”

  “Wow, that’s how you do me?”

  “I’m just saying - I can craft the visual to get you married off.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll tell you what - let's revisit that in about 5 years. I still don't know what I'm doing with my life right now remember?”

  “Right,” I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I'm kind of feeling the plan of staying in the Heights, you know?” He asked. “Most of the family has moved away, gone on to other cities, but I like it there. It feels like home. My friends are there. You're there. Like I said… find me a little spot I can rebuild, and… figure the rest out from there.”

  “And then you find some hussy to move in with you, while I turn into the old maid that lives over the bike shop. Maybe I can scare kids for Halloween…,” I mused, as Raf frowned.