Page 28 of Get Me to the Starting Line
Did she ... Did she just make a sex joke? My cock certainly thinks she did. Thinking about how long I would last if I were to—no. I stop the train of thought from totally derailing. This woman doesn’t like me. I’ve been an asshole.
And even though I think she’s beautiful and her temper is easily becoming my favourite thing about her, I haven’t spent enough time with her to say whether I like her. After so many women abandoning me and my dad, I’m extra cautious when it comes to forming opinions about them, giving them time to show me their true colours.
Though there’s something that draws me to Leah, I don’t know her. Certainly not well enough to justify these dirty thoughts of her. In the shower in my own home is one thing, but not while she’s right beside me, with her kid.
I don’t realize I haven’t been watching where I’m going until a shout comes from right in front of me. Looking up, I’m abouttwo seconds from crashing into a cyclist. I quickly swerve and place myself behind Leah to get out of the way.
That’s the wrong place to be, though, because damn. Her ass in those tight black pants. My cock wants to press against those full cheeks, sliding over and—fuck. I have to pull myself together.
Leah turns around at the wrong moment because I’m still staring at her ass. She scoffs and the sound breaks through my fog. When I meet her gaze, her brows are raised and she seems a little pissed.
Her attitude doesn’t deter me, because now I’m imagining her looking over her shoulder while I’m behind her, and she’s wearing that same expression because I’m edging her—nope. I need to chill.
I pray to god she doesn’t look down. I’m hard as a rock, and it’s physically painful.
My blush deepens at being caught thinking the most delicious things. The safest place for me to be right now is at her side. Or far away from her.
I don’t even know if she realizes she hasn’t taken a walking break in a while. According to my watch, it’s been five minutes. The cyclists have passed, so I step back to her side.
“What was that?” she asks, glancing from me to the cyclists.
“W-What?” I ask as though I don’t know exactly what she’s talking about. I feel her staring, but I don’t want to get distracted again and possibly hurt someone.
“You know what. You almost crashed into the biker. It would’ve felt like getting hit by a dump truck.”
“A dump truck?”
“Come on, you have to know how big you are.”
Inhaling deeply through my nose—that comment does nothing to help the situation between my legs. She has no idea how big I am.
“Yes, I know.”
“You have to be more careful. First you run into Levi and me at the party, and now you almost take out a cyclist!”
I hope she can’t tell how much her words sting me.
“I t-try.”
I don’t know what she heard in my voice, but she looks at me again, and this time I can’t resist the pull to meet her eyes. Her gaze has softened. This is the one thing I’m shit at hiding my feelings about.
My sore spot.
I’m all too aware of the consequences of being too big everywhere I go. I don’t know how many times I’ve wished I could shrink. It’s whyAlice’s Adventures in Wonderlandwas my favourite book as a child. It seemed so easy—eat a cookie and shrink to fit in.
“I’m sorry,” Leah whispers. I’m not sure why she whispered it. It could be that she’s out of breath.
We’ve been running this whole time, and I still don’t think she’s noticed. We may be moving at a snail’s pace, but we’re moving forward, and that’s what counts. She’s running.
I grimace in response, uncomfortable with the vulnerability of this conversation. Sneaking a quick glance when she’s looking ahead, I watch with fascination as a muscle tics in her jaw. I desperately want to know what she’s thinking.
But if she’s thinking about this conversation, I want to steer her thoughts into safer territory.
“Your kid swears,” I point out.
“Yeah, I guess he does.”
“Any more colourful words?”
