Chapter 9
9
A couple of weeks later, on a Saturday morning, we arranged to meet for a run before heading back to his place to shower and spend the rest of the weekend together. It was raining, which never deterred an avid runner like Aaron. I, however, was really not looking forward to running in the elements. I was a fair-weather runner, but I made the effort to keep my complaints down so Aaron wouldn’t uninvite me. I could do it if he could.
We started out at a slow pace and chatted about things we may have missed while apart over the past couple of days. Truthfully we talked or texted many times a day, so it was almost a wonder we found as much to talk about as we did. Aaron picked up the pace and I followed along, although my ability to talk became limited as he chattered on. The sky suddenly darkened to a foreboding shade of gray, threatening to dump some serious precipitation instead of the lighter variety we’d been experiencing. We didn’t have to wait long before the first rumbles of thunder sounded. Aaron looked over at me with a maniacally happy grin. The little fucker loved this! The rain fell in torrents, coming down so fast you could barely see in front of you. Lightening flashed, and Aaron laughed out loud as I jumped in fright.
He kept right on running and I kept on following, calling myself all kinds of idiot that I didn’t raise the white flag and beg him to show some mercy. We were nowhere near our cars, so our best bet would be to take shelter at a coffee shop until the worst of the storm passed. A mile later, I signaled for him to stop. He didn’t. He grinned and kept going. Asshole. I caught up to him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to slow down.
“Please! I’m drowning!” I yelled above the din of thunder.
Aaron rolled his eyes but gamely agreed to stop at the next little coffee shop on our route.
“We are soaked! They don’t want us getting their floors wet. Come on, Matty. It’s only two more miles back to the cars.”
A blast of lightning flashed, sending an eerie glow over the street.
“Fuck that. Come on. And fuck their floors. We should be swimming, not running.” I pulled him inside, and we both did our best to shake off the worst of the wet from our clothes and hair before fully entering the shop. It didn’t really help, though. We looked like two half-drowned rats. I told Aaron to grab a table, and I ordered us a couple of hot cocoas. Not a fitness beverage, I know, but I needed the comfort. Aaron didn’t complain. In fact, he had his best and biggest smile on when I presented him with his drink.
“What are you smiling about? This is miserable!” I shook my sopping-wet hair in his direction, which only made him giggle more. He looked so fucking happy, I found myself returning his smile in spite of being really wet and very uncomfortable.
“It’s not miserable. It’s fun! This is the best kind of day, Matty! I love it!”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “And I love you,” but I caught myself. I shook my head and he laughed again, unaware of the inner turmoil I had just set into play. Did I love him? I stopped myself from overthinking the sentiment as I looked across the table at my soaking-wet running partner and reminded myself to live in the moment. I would surely scare him away if I uttered the L-word. Fuck, I was scaring myself! I swiped a finger full of whipped cream from the top of my drink and licked it off suggestively. Aaron’s eyes went from amused to sultry in a heartbeat.
“Drink up, honey. We have to run to our rides before we can get home and get naked.”
I groaned.
“Can’t we call a taxi to take us to our cars?”
“You are whining, naughty boy! And the answer is no. We can do it!”
“Damn right I’m whining. There is nothing on me that isn’t wet.”
“Ooo, that’s sexy.”
“Sexy? How? Never mind. I’m ready when you are.”
My choice of hot cocoa wasn’t the best type of fuel to run on. I had a side cramp a mile into the run and had to stop. Aaron caught sight of me clutching my side and ran back to check on me.
“Want to walk?” His brow was furrowed in concern.
“No, but yes, I have to. Go on. I’ll meet you back at your place. No sense in us both being stuck out here longer than necessary.” I leaned over at my waist with my hands on my knees, trying to breathe through the worst of the pain.
“Don’t be silly. We’ll take a slow walk in the rain. So romantic.”
I made the effort to look up at him and saw his teasing grin. He was more adorable to me than ever in that moment. The L-word sprang to the tip of my tongue again. I wanted to tell him how good it felt to be with him, even when I was hunched over, clutching my side in pain in the pouring rain. Somehow, in spite of it all, this did feel romantic.
I returned his smile and made a valiant effort to start walking. It was slow going at first, with the rain continuing its incessant tattoo. Aaron kept a steady stream of chatter as we made our way at a leisurely pace. He didn’t require much input from me as he set about telling me a story about being stuck in the rain when he was at college, locked out of his dorm. I realized he was setting me at ease in his own way. Attempting to entertain me with a tale he no doubt greatly embellished for entertainment purposes, all to keep my mind off my body’s aches and the long walk ahead of us. It worked. I found myself laughing along with him, noting his quick hand movements keeping time with his animated storytelling. The rain had flattened his hair, but he still had to brush it from his eyes every once in a while. I marveled that the simplest of acts made me yearn to touch him.
We were both shivering in earnest by the time we finally reached our cars. Aaron gave me a quick kiss on the lips, telling me he’d see me at home. I heard the word “home” and decided it fit. I followed him and parked directly behind him, grabbing my overnight bag and my guitar case. I don’t know what prompted me to bring it, but I wasn’t leaving it in my car. He helped me schlep my stuff to the front door. We both let out audible sighs of relief once we were finally inside the building’s relatively warm lobby.
His apartment, of course, was fucking freezing. We dropped my belongings at the door and started undressing as fast as possible. Aaron turned on the heater on his way to the bathroom to get the shower going. We had talked about a steaming-hot shower being our reward, and I for one couldn’t wait.
Aaron called for me to hurry up. He was already under the spray when I got there, smiling a dreamy, happy smile.
“Hurry! You’re frozen, dummy! We need to warm you up. Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work. Just stand under the water. Let me take care of you.”
I did as I was told. The warm water was nirvana. Aaron soaped up his hands and washed me thoroughly. His touch was a magic elixir. So good.
“Bend down so I can wash your hair.”
I obeyed wordlessly, reveling in the feel of his fingers massaging my scalp.
“Rinse off, honey.”
My body was boneless and beyond exhausted, but I wanted to offer him the same treatment. He gently refused my overture, telling me to get toweled off and in some warm clothes immediately. He sounded like my mom. I told him so, which earned me a smack on my right ass cheek.
“Fine! I’m going! I’m going!”
“Good boy. I’ll be right out.”
Aaron made us hot tea once he was dressed. I sat on his sofa, finally feeling the warmth from the heater as well as my comfortable dry clothing. I picked my guitar up out of its case and strummed a few chords, making sure it was still in key.
“I love that you brought your guitar! What will you play for me?” Aaron looked delicious in a pair of flannel pj’s and a tight-fitting long-sleeved T-shirt. His hair was a little mussed from the shower, and I was hoping he’d leave it that way. He looked boyishly adorable.
“I don’t know why I brought it, honestly. Total impulse, I guess.” I was a little self-conscious.
“Don’t be shy! I’ve heard you play, remember? I know you’re good. Play me a song, Matty.”
I started to play an Elton John song. The original version was played on the piano, but I’d been working on the guitar adaptation.
“Pretty. What is it?”
“‘Your Song’. It’s by Elton John. You know it?”
“No. What are the words?”
I was going to say I couldn’t believe he didn’t know that song, but really, why would he? He liked techno-pop dance music. Plus this was an older song. Maybe he’d heard it when he was a kid but didn’t recall.
I started from the top and sang softly to him. The words were a perfect sentiment to how I felt about him. I couldn’t say the words, but I hoped he would get the message through the music.
“It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside….”
I didn’t look at him until I finished the last line.
He had a tear in his eye. He did understand.
I set my guitar aside, reached for him, and pulled him close to me. I just wanted to hold him, smell him, feel him. Yeah, “this feeling inside.” Whatever it was, it felt pretty fucking powerful.