12. Clara
Chapter 12
Clara
B y the time I meet RJ in the kitchen, all that’s left of another thwarted orgasm is some anxious energy. Not ideal, but I’m holding Jansen to that “later.” Bundled in layers so I can pull things off as I warm up, I realize how long it’s been since we’ve run together. We were in shorts and tanks that morning, and the guilt of avoiding him almost suffocates me.
RJ’s smile is kind, however. “Hey, you ready?”
“Yup. I just need to fill up my water.”
He waits quietly while I finish, then follows me out the front. I’d forgotten how RJ creates a bubble of comfortable silence around him, and I want to swim in it. I’ve been alone for the last few weeks, only hanging out with my best friend Emma, but that silence was fraught with anxiety and unshed tears. RJ is the cozy blanket of hushed comfort I’d been craving. I only wish I’d realized it sooner .
“Any destination in mind?” he asks, his breath fogging the chill morning air, his curls held back by an ear warmer instead of his usual headband.
Adjusting my ear warmer, I force the guilt away. “Nowhere in particular. Maybe you want to choose a path for once?”
He shrugs. “I usually just run aimlessly around the neighborhood if I want to go for a run. Do you have a distance in mind?”
“Nah. I’m done training for anything until spring.” I glance up and down the street, trying to figure out a destination. “Honestly, I kind of want to go look at pretty houses.”
RJ shoots me a grin. “We can do that. Want to head over to the lakes?”
I think through the selection of lakes on the west side of Minneapolis, picking the route with the nicest houses and the right distance for us both to run together. “Lake of the Isles has the best mansions, but it’s less than three miles around.”
“We could always continue on to Bde Maka Ska or Cedar Lake if we want to run farther,” he says.
I bounce on my toes, excited to travel some new ground. “Let’s do it.”
RJ grins. “Sounds good. I’ll go get my key. Meet you in back?”
“Sure thing.” I rush through the house to RJ’s motorcycle parked between the fence and Trips’ huge pickup truck.
The last time I was on his bike, I didn’t have a chance to really look at it. This time, I want to know what I’m riding on. Unfortunately, it’s covered by a locked bag-thing, so I have to wait for RJ.
RJ slips up behind me, handing me a green helmet and a black helmet to hold before he drops and uncovers the bike. The body is sleek, like what I’d imagine a racing bike looks like, black with neon green details. There is a small hump for the passenger on the back. Looking at it, I’m practically vibrating thinking about going for a ride on it. Last time I was running high on fear and adrenaline. This time, I’m going to make sure I have fun.
RJ walks the bike out into the alley before snagging the black helmet and sliding it over his curls. I try to push my head into the green helmet and immediately realize that my high ponytail is a problem. I yank the thing off, pull out my ponytail and toss in a quick low braid, then try again. Much better. Once the helmet’s settled, RJ palms my head before climbing onto the bike, turning the key and pressing a button before giving the bike a warm-up rev. His visor turns toward me, and I hear his voice clearly in my ear. “Hop on.”
I grin, throwing my leg over behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. Last time, he’d had on his leather jacket—this time, we’re both in running gear, the warmth of his body and mine immediately merging in all the places we are pressed together.
“Ready?” he asks, his voice shooting into an intercom system in the helmets.
“Ready,” I say, a grin of anticipation tight across my cheeks.
The bike rockets down the alleyway, likely no faster than a car, but with the late fall wind cutting through my long sleeve shirt and running tights, it feels like we’re flying. I giggle, the excitement escaping as we whip around the corner. The roar of the engine reverberates through my body, the hum of my twice thwarted orgasm immediately ramping up again. Well, damn.
RJ’s laugh trickles into my ear, mellow and smooth, flowing through me, amplifying the rumble of the bike between my legs. “Lean with me into turns, okay?”
“Got it,” I say, as the purr of the bike teases me higher.
Shit. I thought I had this under control. I need to focus on something else. My guilt hops in like a dog eager for a car ride, and I just decide to roll with it. It’s either that or I come pressed up against RJ’s back. And I’m not going to scare him away with a poorly timed orgasm.
“Thanks,” I force out.
“For what?”
My guilt goes into overdrive, pushing my pending orgasm further away. I can’t thank him for letting me date his friends, or for not making a big deal about me avoiding him. After the last few weeks, I’m counting myself lucky that he even wants to go running with me. “I guess for your patience. I know I haven’t been available much lately.”
He presses his hand against my arms wrapped around his middle, a comforting squeeze, before latching back onto the handlebars. “You needed time. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m here whenever you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere either.”
“Excellent,” he says before gunning the bike onto the freeway, the road nearly empty this early on the weekend. I squeal, unable to keep my excitement locked in, my heart racing from the speed, the risk, the vibrations, and the trickles of electricity shuttling between RJ and me .
I ride the edge of orgasm the rest of the way across town, and we pull up next to the running path at the lake without me embarrassing us both. Someday in the future, though? If things work out the way I hope, maybe I’ll get to demonstrate exactly how much I love riding with RJ.
I stumble off before RJ pops the bike up on the kickstand, his running shorts and long sleeve shirt making an awkward pairing with his monster sport bike. We get a few looks from rich people walking tiny dogs, especially after we both pull off our helmets, RJ’s natural curls a little flat on the top. But rich people can just live with the cognitive dissonance of the situation, right? We’re not bothering anyone; we’re just doing our thing.
With that settled, even if only in my mind, I shake out some of my buzz before I switch from a braid back to a high ponytail, taking longer than necessary. RJ stores the helmets while he waits on me, locking them to the foot pegs with a metal loop.
The air is sparkling this morning, frost dotting the red and gold fallen leaves that line the path, cooling me down further. Taking in the mostly naked trees surrounding the long, narrow lake, I pick a safe topic. “I can’t believe Halloween is this week.”
“I know. Wednesday. Do you have any plans?”
I do a few high knee hops to kick out the rest of my anxious need. “I’m working closing shift at the coffee shop, and I have class at noon on Thursday, so I’m not sure I should risk it. You?”
RJ shakes his head. “Nothing planned yet, but if the guys head out, I’ll tag along. ”
Finally able to run without a hitch in my step, we trot down the path, the pale sun burning the frozen dew from the grass.
I try not to stare at the hint of a smile that’s locked in the corner of RJ’s mouth, at his serious eyes focused ahead, or his obvious intelligence sparkling in those umber depths. Hacker. I’m going for a morning run with a beautiful fucking hacker. I’m not sure my life could get any weirder.
“So why a motorcycle?” I ask as we wind through a few trees.
RJ shoots me a grin. “Do you want the reasons I gave my mama, or the real reasons?”
I chuckle. “Let’s start with the parent argument.”
We skirt past an old man on a bench, RJ nodding politely before answering. “I told her it’s cheaper than a car, it’s more eco-friendly, and that I mostly ride in residential areas, so she shouldn’t worry about a major accident. Also, I can’t text and drive because riding requires my full focus. That alone makes it safer than a car, but most important, if I ever get pulled over, the police can’t racially profile me with my helmet on. Bonus, my hands are always fully visible, so I probably won’t get shot.”
“Fuck.”
RJ tosses a half a shrug. “I mean, it got me the bike.”
We run another block, enormous mansions with sweeping lawns just across the street from us. “So what are the real reasons?”
RJ laughs. “That thing is fucking sweet—have you seen it? And it goes stupidly fast. I feel like a badass riding it. And best of all? My mom can’t use me as a taxi service for my sisters unless she’s willing to give me her car for the day. ”
We both laugh at that.
“You have sisters?” I ask.
RJ’s face gets a little softer, his eyes a little less focused. “Yeah. Trish and Jade. They fight like fucking cats, but love each other even harder.”
“How old are they?”
“Trish is a freshman at Madison and is loving her freedom. Jade is a sophomore in high school, and she’s at the age where she already knows everything, you know? I’m sure someday she’ll let me be her big brother again, but for now, I’m just a nerdy nobody to her.” He shrugs, looking across the street at the next uber mansion.
This one has a belfry or something—I honestly don’t understand who can afford to live around here. And who needs 10,000 square feet of house? I mean, I guess if you never wanted to see your family, it might make sense. But otherwise, it’s just excessive. The only plus I can think of is that they make amazing scenery.
“What’s it like? To have sisters?” I ask, wondering if RJ has the same grudging love for his sisters as Emma has for hers.
RJ rubs the back of his neck, thinking. “I love them, but sometimes I just want to hide from them. They are always everywhere, getting into my stuff, talking to me, wanting me to have an opinion on some random shit I know nothing about. But they also stand up for me.”
“How so?”
RJ sneaks a glance at me before focusing on the path. “Well, you know how when you first moved in, I didn’t really talk to you much? ”
“I mean, I guess so? I was worried I was annoying you, but Jansen said to give you time, and then we were good, so I didn’t really think about it after that.”
RJ rubs his neck again, his lips pursed like he’s deciding which words to pick up and use. “I’ve always been shy. As I got older, I started making friends, but they were all online, not real life, in-person people. Trish kept pushing me to talk to actual humans. She said she didn’t want a social reject as a big brother.” He chuckles, obviously remembering an old conversation. We circle the gooseneck of the lake, the other side so close we could practically throw a rock across it, but unreachable by foot for another few minutes.
I wait, knowing there’s more to RJ’s story. Eventually, he sighs. “So after a few god-awful fights, I started working on it. I ended up with a few friends by the time I finished high school. We weren’t close or anything, but we’d hang out and play video games on the weekend. Only for some dumb reason, I still couldn’t talk to girls. They seemed too, I don’t know, socially superior for me to toss my awkward ass at. So I just didn’t. I got a little better, over the years, but not much.”
RJ’s honey-brown eyes lock on mine. “You’re the first girl I’ve been totally chill with besides my sisters. Ever.”
I swallow, not sure how to take this confession. A sad smile falls across RJ’s face before he turns back to the path. “Not being able to talk to half of the student population did not make high school easy for me. Add the fact that I spent more time with computers than people, well, I was a social pariah. But Trish stood up for me. She wouldn’t let people say the worst stuff about me. Jade probably would have too, but she was too little to know what was going on. So, yeah. My sisters are annoying, but also kind of awesome.”
I bump up against his arm, wanting to show support for sharing with me, but not sure if he’d be open to anything bigger. He flashes me a smile, so maybe I guessed right. “You obviously have amazing sisters—it must be a family thing,” I tease.
RJ laughs, the same smooth melody from earlier, and my insides get all gooey. I want to make him laugh all the time to swim in the bliss of listening to it. We follow a twist in the path to the other side of the lake, but I pause as I pull off my long sleeve shirt, my body boiling from the run, among other reasons. RJ does the same, and I can’t help but eye his biceps. The way the muscles stretch the sleeves of his t-shirt makes me want to lick them.
Good God, what is wrong with me today? It’s like I’ve bottled up all my horniness for years and decided last night to pour it into my bloodstream by the gallon. This is preposterous.
But with RJ right in front of me, his breath fogging out and his shirt riding up as he straightens his ear warmer, giving me a glimpse of some serious abs? It’s just…damn.
Dragging my eyes away, I shoot down the path, focusing on the fancy houses instead of the gorgeous guy beside me. I’m surprised when RJ breaks the silence. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters to torment?”
I grimace. “No such luck. I’m an only child.”
“What’s that like?”
“Quiet,” I tease .
That only merits a soft huff, so no bone-jelly laugh for that one. Darn. “It was boring sometimes, but I got pretty good at entertaining myself. I didn’t have to fight with anyone for the bathroom or for the last piece of cake. I guess it was mostly fine.”
We keep pace around the other side of the lake, a yard covered in nearly bare apple trees on our right. A small sign invites people to come pick their apples, with a date from last weekend. At least the ultra-wealthy let us ruffians steal their apples occasionally.
RJ clears his throat. “Do you get along with your parents? I saw your dad at your race, but not your mom.”
I shake out my hands, trying not to let the anger take hold. “My dad’s great. He’s super supportive, kind, wonderful, playful. Really, I’m not sure I could imagine a better dad than I’ve got. My mom? She’s, well, she’s not very wonderful.”
My temper rises and the urge to sprint kicks in. I shoot RJ a grin that is probably closer to a snarl. “Race you to the next bench?”
“You’re on.”
We bolt, passing a few walkers and another runner, RJ’s long legs pulling him ahead. At the last second, I surge forward, and we tag the bench at the same time, grinning. I’m stupidly proud that we tied. Sometimes it sucks being a normal-sized female.
The sprint took the edge off my anger at my mom, so I let my mind wander as we trot back to the path again, the end of our loop closer than I would like. Why was I such an idiot these last few weeks? I’m grinning, laughing, and the constant roil of frustration in my gut is finally calming. And I know RJ’s part of this turn for the better.
We’re back to our casual pace, but RJ spins, running backwards in front of me, watching my face. “Is your mom a no-go topic?”
Shit. I try to smile, but I know I’m failing at it. He shared a piece of himself earlier. I owe him one of my own. “No. It’s fine. I mean, I know she loves me. She just loves herself more. And she’s so busy worrying about herself, regretting all the choices she’s made, that she can’t seem to notice that I’m not her, that I have a life separate from whatever she imagined for me. And when I dare to point out that fact, somehow, I’m always the one apologizing, or else she hangs up on me, or gives me the silent treatment. It’s so fucking childish.”
I feel a curl flop down, wet against my neck, and yank out my hair, raking it back into shape. RJ keeps pace in front of me, waiting. I force the rest of my hurt into words. “She hasn’t talked to me for a month because I won’t get back together with Bryce. I’m not apologizing this time. She’s even nagged my dad about it. But I won’t. She can either care enough to trust me, to believe that I broke up with him for a damn good reason, or she can ignore me forever. I’m done with her brand of bullshit.”
It feels good to say it out loud, to admit that my mom is toxic. But it also feels like a corner of my heart is breaking, the part that just wants my mom to give me a hug and tell me she’s proud of me.
As much as I wish to hear that, I’m not going to hold my breath, hoping for a day that will never come. So I’m not apologizing. I’m done with keeping the peace. It can all fucking go up in flames.
RJ stops me, his hands on my shoulders. He brushes my cheek, shivers following his touch. As he pulls his hand back, my tear perches on his thumb, wetting his skin. “It’s okay if the people we love let us down. It doesn’t make us any less for loving them. It just means we have to be careful how much of ourselves we’re willing to share.”
I swallow back more tears, not wanting to weep here on a running path in full view of whoever comes by. A few breaths later, I nod at RJ. Instead of turning around and finishing the run, he pulls me in for a hug, a cloud of citrus and sage enveloping me.
Wrapping my arms around him, his comfort calms the roar of rage still lingering under my ribs. I press my nose to his chest, breathing deeply, wanting to lock the smell of him in my brain, bolt it in a box along with the sound of his laugh, little pieces of RJ to carry with me and take out whenever I need him. Like paper dolls.
It wouldn’t be real, though. I’d always be hoping for the real RJ, not the tiny bits I’ve collected.
Eventually, I let out a sigh, and RJ pulls back enough for me to lift my head up and meet his gaze. “Better?” he asks.
I tilt my head to one side. “Mostly.”
He tugs me in for another hug, and before my stupid libido ruins a lovely moment with its horny-ass self, he pulls away.
Whew.
Instead, the space he leaves in front of me feels vacant in a soul-deep way, hollow without him there. I need him close, helping me keep the emptiness at bay .
“Want to finish up this thing?” he asks.
“Consider it done,” I say, forcing the last of my stupid angst down and away. I’m over that. I don’t want it.
RJ squeezes my hand before we both take off down the path. That little movement shifts something between us. Something’s different. New. The track I was on, and the one he was on, they both just clicked and shuttered, and we’ve been shunted to a fresh road, a new journey together. I opened the door, and he stepped through. I grin the rest of the way home.