Page 32 of Bad to the Bone
Chapter Sixteen
WEDNESDAYmorning continued the unusually warm streak of the past week. Alex wasn’t sure Ricky Lee would really show up to run with him, but as he was lacing his Asics, his phone beeped to alert him to a text message.
In front when you’re ready.
Be right down, he typed back.
Buck raced downstairs before him as usual and bounded over to Ricky Lee as soon as Alex opened the door. He took advantage of the opportunity to admire the way Ricky Lee’s track shorts and sleeveless T-shirt stretched over his strong frame, baring long, smooth legs and arms corded with muscle.
“Not a lot of selection at the local Walmart,” Ricky Lee said, dissuading Buck from jumping on him with a gentle knee to the dog’s chest. Once Buck stood panting on the ground, Ricky Lee rewarded him with a firm scratch behind the ears, then glanced up to spot Alex staring at him and grinned. Alex flushed at being caught out so blatantly. Useless to suggest he’d been checking out Ricky Lee’s apparel and not his physique.
“He’ll calm down once we start moving,” Alex said.I hope.“You should do some stretches to limber up first—I’ve done mine upstairs, but I can walk through them with you again.”
“I’m good—I do a Muay Thai stretching routine every morning.”
Imagining Ricky Lee moving through the kind of acrobatic leaps and kicks Crae had exhibited the night of the reunion was enough to make Alex’s jock feel uncomfortably tight. “Let’s go, then.”
Any doubts he might have had about Ricky Lee’s ability to keep up with him vanished after the first mile. It wasn’t feasible to hold a conversation while they were running, but when he paused at the halfway point, Ricky Lee was barely breathing hard, though the front of his T-shirt was damp with sweat.
“I should have brought some water,” Alex said with regret. “I do when it’s really hot in the summer, but in cooler weather like today I usually don’t bother.”
“Don’t worry about it. I sweat more than this when I spar with Crae. I’ll drink enough water to rehydrate when we get back.”
Though he’d worried that running with Ricky Lee might be awkward, Alex found it surprisingly calming. In place of the thoughts he usually worked through in his head as he ran, the sounds of Ricky Lee’s footfalls echoing his, the solidity of his presence beside him, the tantalizing glimpses he caught of Ricky Lee’s form when he turned his head, all felt so right that he had to force himself not to dwell on how solitary it would feel when Ricky Lee finally returned to Portland.
By the time their route returned to the hardware store, Alex’s shirt was as sweat-ringed as Ricky Lee’s, and only Buck seemed ready to keep going. “I’d offer to go dutch for breakfast at the Coffee Pot, but as sweaty as I am, Brigit would have a legitimate reason to object to my presence today.” Ricky Lee picked up his helmet and straddled the Harley. “Riding back to the hotel is going to feel so good. Same time tomorrow?”
Alex swallowed against his dry throat and nodded in agreement. “Same time tomorrow.”
The Harley’s engine roared to life, and Alex watched the cycle and its rider disappear down the street before heading upstairs for a cold shower.
ASthey returned from their run on Thursday morning, Alex gave serious consideration to suggesting that Ricky Lee could clean up in his apartment.I could lend him some fresh clothes to change into, though they might be a little snug on him—and wasn’t that a lovely image, almost as arousing as the fantasy of Ricky Lee naked under his shower. Alex shook his head to banish the all-too-tempting thought and the equally enticing vision of climbing in behind him.
Still, that didn’t mean he had to let Ricky Lee go too easily. “Would you like to try for breakfast this morning?” he asked when they were cooling down in front of the store. “After we both freshen up, that is?”
Ricky Lee shook his head. “I have to move some calls since I’m playing hooky tomorrow, and Crae said something about meeting your friend Sam this morning to show her some basic Muay Thai concepts.”
Interesting that Sam hadn’t mentioned that to Alex. He filed it away as ammunition for a later date. “I’ll pick you up at the hotel around seven tomorrow morning, then. We can swing past the Coffee Pot and get some breakfast to go before we hit the turnpike.”
“Is there a dress code for this event?” Ricky Lee asked as he started the Harley.
“I usually wear a suit when I’ll be talking to representatives, but you certainly don’t have to.”
“Technically I’m not a constituent anymore, but I’ve never been particularly good at keeping my opinions to myself. See you tomorrow.” Ricky Lee pulled on his helmet and turned the bike into the trickle of cars that was Freeland’s morning commuter traffic.
THErest of the day was surprisingly busy, especially since Alanna disappeared earlier than usual. Alex couldn’t blame her—she’d be covering the store alone all day tomorrow—and the time passed more quickly when customers claimed his attention than when he was left alone to brood about how much longer he could expect to hold Ricky Lee’s interest. When he closed up and headed upstairs at the end of the night, Alanna was back in the apartment, with a self-satisfied expression on her face that made him suspect she and Justin had been up to more than just dinner and a movie.
He woke before his alarm went off Friday morning. There was no time for a run since the drive to OKC would take almost two hours, and he wanted to get there in time to put in a full day before the legislators disappeared for the weekend.
After taking a quick shower and dressing in the second of his two suits, he headed into the kitchen, where Alanna was eating a cup of yogurt. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be home tonight,” he told her. “We may decide to stop and get dinner somewhere on the way back.”
“Don’t rush on my account,” she said with a smile that made Alex wonder whether he needed to be sure to give her and Justin more time alone together. He dropped a kiss on her cheek, ruffled Buck’s fur, and held him back from trying to join him on his way down the stairs.
Bypassing the Morrison Hardware truck parked outside, he walked to the shed at the back of the lot and unlocked the door. “Hello, baby,” he cooed to the vintage car parked inside—the 426 V8 hemi Dodge Challenger his father had bought new in 1970. “Going to take you out for a nice long spin today.”
The engine turned over with a deep rumble that shook the frame. Alex rolled down the front windows, put the car into gear, and eased out onto the street, letting the breeze tousle his hair. By the time he got to Ricky Lee’s hotel, the exhilaration he felt every time he drove the Challenger had him singing along with Bruce Springsteen on the radio.
Ricky Lee was waiting outside the hotel lobby, looking casual but professional in a dress shirt and khakis. Alex had to honk the horn to draw his attention. “Looking for a ride?”
