Page 16 of Heart Match

‘Are you here because of work?’

‘Yes,’ his voice is lower, almost a whisper.

I turn to face him again only to find his eyes closed. He fell asleep. It makes me smile. I take the chance to watch him, and I do it for a long time. I watch his chest rising up and down under his now wrinkled V-neck. I notice the dark stubbles along his jawline, the fine shape of his nose, his messy hair—now dry and softer—being lightly moved by the wind. Is it too creepy of me to take advantage of his vulnerability and check him out?

The hand over his chest moves rhythmically up and down with his breathing. The other’s by his side, palm facing up, and I notice it’s covered in calluses and fresh, reddened blisters. I realise I still don’t know much about him, but right now I think it’s better this way.

#

I wake up to the sound of a ringing phone that is not mine. My head’s on someone’s shoulder, someone’s nose is breathing on the top of my head. The phone keeps ringing and I realise where I am and with whom.

Luc wakes up startled by the noise too. We break apart as fast as we manage. He gets his phone from his back pocket and as soon as he checks the caller his face full of worry.

‘Merde. I gotta go. It’s 2:00 am,’ he says, startled after ignoring the call.

I move out of the way so he can get up, he moves at the same time and somehow he’s now hovering over me.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ he says quickly and jumps over me and onto the floor.

I follow him to the front door still half sleeping, not really understanding what’s happening and how we fell asleep and drifted until 2:00 am, how I ended up with my head on his shoulder, who was calling him and how we should say goodbye after all that.

‘Sorry and thank you,’ he says smoothing up his hair, but it’s still very much messy, and even sexier with his sleepy face.

God. Just go and never come back. I can’t see you ever again.

‘It’s ok, I …’ before I say anything else he gives me a quick kiss on my cheek, turns around and takes the stairs, three steps at a time, back to his apartment above mine.

Chapter Five

I have the feeling my life has gotten quite messy in the past two days. Things seem to be chaotic. First, my work issue, then I get way too drunk with the girls and because of that I get myself a Luc in my life and waking up today feeling like I should stay in bed the whole day. This never happens.

As I snooze my alarm for the second time, I stare at the ceiling and wish last night never happened and that Lexi and Naomi would be already up so we can do one of our emergency video calls. But when my alarm goes off once again, I decide I should do at least one thing that I still can control: run.

I’ve found running to be the best therapy for anxious days, which have been present more often than not in the past three years of my life. Today’s no exception. It’s 5:30 am when I’m in front of the building wearing running shoes, shorts, a cropped top and a ponytail warming up before I head toward the Thames.

I love it how quiet London is at this time of day, when the whole city is still getting ready to leave for work cramped in the tube, running around like lost ants and zigzagging like bees to make it on time for work. Since I only work in the office two days a week and the rest from home, I don’t have to worry about being one of the ants or bees today. Instead, I enjoy the summer breeze by the Thames, here around Richmond, which is even more quiet than most other areas of the river.

The fresh breeze brings all sorts of smells, mainly morning coffee and freshly baked bread. And well, I refuse to complain about the bad smell that comes from the water once in a while, especially today that is sunny and such a beautiful early morning.

I’ve been focused on organising my thoughts while running for almost half an hour. I never wear earphones and listen to music when I’m running, I like to listen to the city noises or quietness, so I immediately hear when someone begins running alongside me and starts talking to me.

‘Thought it was you,’ says Luc from beside me.

All my focus is gone and my stable pulse has now been compromised.

‘Oh, hi.’

I’m not sure if I should stop or keep going. But he keeps on running, so I just do too.

‘Do you run often?’ he asks matter-of-factly.

‘Everyday. Well, apart from the days I have hangovers,’ I say.

He lets out a smirk.

‘You?’

‘Same,’ he looks at me and winks.

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