Page 33 of The Ground Beneath Our Feet
“Okay, now take it easy. We’re gonna just run down to the corner and back. We’re gonna do it in intervals. Walk, then run, then walk. You can do it.”
We stood outside our house in a street of Victorian houses. The trees met overhead, filtering the sunlight. Pods from the sycamores and eucalyptus littered the ground. The sidewalk squares had been dislodged from tree roots and pointed every which way. Trip hazards everywhere. I’d do my best to avoid a nose-dive.
Mikey wore a striped tank top that showed off his bulging, tattooed muscles, and basketball shorts. He had a baseball cap on and looked hot.
I wore a shlumpy old T-shirt that said, “Old Navy 2011,” and a pair of sweatpants that had a small hole in the butt cheek. I hoped he couldn’t see it, but I didn’t have anything better. Makeup free, my hair pulled back in a ponytail, I looked terrible.
But he winked at me and smiled, checking me out. I wanted to hide, but I’d agreed to let him mold me.
“Ready. Set. Go.”
With a hoof, I started running. Oh my God, I hadn’t done this in years. Since I was a little kid. Since ever.
I couldn’t run. This was crazy. Everything jiggled.
But I did it. I moved my legs up and down, and after half a block, I was out of breath. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, and I couldn’t breathe.
“Okay, we’re walking.”
I looked over at Mikey, who had no elevated breath, exactly like when he was just hanging out on the couch.
Jerk.
“I can’t do this,” I said.
“Of course you can. Keep walking. Take a moment to catch your breath. Regulate your heart rate. Then we’ll get going again.”
He was staring at me.
Why was he staring? Did I really look that bad?
But he gave me a huge grin, and I forgot what I was thinking about. After we walked for another half of a block, the stitch in my side loosened. When we got to the end, I said—surprising myself, “I think I can go another block.”
He looked at me with admiration and tugged my ponytail. “Atta girl. You got this. We’re gonna get you so you can run a 5K.”
I snort-laughed. “Yeah, right. I could never do that.”
“Why not? You can do anything.”
And I didn’t realize, but while I was laughing, we’d picked up the pace, and I’d run another half block. Mikey’d distracted me the entire way. And it wasn’t just because I watched how his powerful legs moved easily over the uneven ground. No. It was his dazzling smile and encouragement that got me that far.
I had no idea how I did it, but I ended up going five more blocks. For someone who couldn’t run at all, this felt like a major miracle.
As we headed back, I asked, “How many other clients do you have?”
“Right now, none,” he said with a grin. “I got my certification for my own education. I occasionally take on private clients, but this is more for me.”
When we got back home, I was so tired and red and sweaty, but so excited that I did it. Mikey followed me up the stairs to the house. Elvis yawned as we stood on the porch. Flush with endorphins, I smiled broadly. “I did it!”
“You totally did!” And he grabbed me and wrapped his arms around me, ignoring my sweat and hugging me tight.
I hugged him back ecstatically, and felt his pectoral muscles under my cheek, the little barbells a sexy hardness. We breathed into each other and then broke apart before stepping inside the house.
He’d cleaned because I’d asked, and that made my stomach dip in wonderful ways, with the added bonus that the house was now beautiful. As I headed upstairs to shower, the rabbit hopped across the living room. The turtles ambled. And the dishes, paper, and laundry were all put where they needed to be.
I knew a few things. Whether it was just the release from our run or the feelings from the hug, I was slowly falling for my roommate. He was the most buoyant, fun, soothing man I’d ever met. And I knew that he was comforting me during my nightmares, although I didn’t know how to bring that up with him. So embarrassing and awkward. I’d just not mention it for now.
Just like I wouldn’t mention the junk food I’d been keeping in my bottom drawer, just in case.
