Me: A date? No. A “thing.”
Me: Why would you think I have a date?
Again with the damn bubbles.
Me: Spit it out, Cole.
It was a risk, both the command and the nickname.
Beautiful: I just assumed that’s what you meant and didn’t want to discuss your dating life with a kid in your class.
She was jealous. I shouldn’t relish it, but every bit of me did. I also wouldn’t play on her vulnerability. She’d laid herself out there, trusting I wouldn’t crush her with my response. And as long as she gave me that kind of honesty, I’d guard it with my life.
Me: I’m not dating anyone. I haven’t since grad school.
Beautiful: I leave my house at six on Sundays because church starts at ten. I go through the park.
Me: Sleep tight.
Beautiful: Goodnight, Eli.
My chest swelled, and in my head, I could hear her say my name. I wished she were lying next to me and had whispered into my ear just before I turned out the lights, but since that couldn’t happen, my imagination was the next best thing.
I watched the clock all night. Six couldn’t come fast enough. At five, I gave up and got dressed. Thirty minutes later, I walked to the park and sat on the same bench Colbie had shared with me a week ago. I swear, I didn’t have to see her come around the corner. My body sensed hers, and every hair on my neck stood at attention when she came near.
Colbie stopped long enough to pull one bud from her ear. “You coming?”
This was probably the closest I’d ever get to seeing her in the dark, and she didn’t disappoint. Her shorts barely covered her butt, and her sports bra was minimal. She wasn’t indecent; I was just a pervert. I had no idea how she kept her milky complexion when she ran every day in the sun, but it was alluring. She wouldn’t have looked right with a tan, and somehow, it made her more appealing.
I stood and joined her. Colbie put her earbud back in and started down the path. If I’d had my choice, we would have sat on the bench and skipped the whole exercise bit, but that would’ve led to things she wasn’t ready for and I couldn’t do. So I kept her pace, but when we started down the old gravel road that led out to the country, I reached over and pulled on the cord attached to her ear until the bud fell out.
“Where are we going?” According to my watch, we’d already logged three miles. There was nothing but desolation down this stretch of road.
She didn’t slow down, not even when a car came up beside us. “Down one fifty-three. It’s only a few miles.”
I grabbed her wrist and pulled her to my side to keep her from being run over. “Jesus, Colbie. You almost got hit.”
Her pale blue eyes searched mine in the early light of morning. I’d hurt her feelings, but she wouldn’t tell me.
I resisted the urge to wrap my arm around her slender waist and show her why I didn’t want her to get hurt. Instead, I tucked a stray hair behind her ear and softened my tone. “How far are we going?”
The birds chirped around us, but there wasn’t another human in sight. The car that had sped past was long gone.
“Seven more.”
“Miles?”
She must have found humor in whatever expression I made. Her giggle was like spring air, a rainbow after a storm, fire on a snowy night. “Yeah. I do ten on Sundays.”
“Why?” Three I could do with ease. Five I could handle but didn’t want to. Ten was just punishing my body.
Colbie tensed and panic laced her wide eyes.
I cupped her jaw and the back of her neck in my hand, stroking her cheek with my thumb. “Hey. You can talk to me. Nothing has to be a secret if you don’t want it to be.” That was dangerous, and I absolutely didn’t care.
She stared over my shoulder at something in the distance. I didn’t have to be a genius to know that she couldn’t look me in the eye when she made whatever confession she held, and I didn’t press. I also didn’t let her go.
“To stay in shape.”
There was more. I could sense the hitch in her breath, the hesitation in her voice. I just had to give her the time and patience to offer me the rest.
“It’s not as easy for me as it is for the other girls at school. I have to work for it.” A tear slipped past her cheek as my brain registered her whispered words. “I should do more, but my parents make me go to church, and it’s not safe to go out any earlier than six.”
Wow. She truly didn’t see what anyone else saw in her. “Colbie?” I doubted nature had heard me speak, but Colbie did.
Her eyes flicked to mine. Pain was etched into her face and her gorgeous blue eyes. Whatever was going on was so much deeper than the argument she’d had with Caden. Running was a ritual, and there was no doubt she had more of them that she hid. It was easy for her to do when no one bothered to note where she was or what she did as long as she showed up for dinner and church.
“I wish you could see yourself through the lenses of your classmates.” And mine.
She shook her head and dropped her gaze to our feet. Her shoulders trembled, and I lost the fight. Pulling her to me, she came willingly. When I wrapped my arms around her back, she tucked her arms against my chest, but she didn’t use them to put distance between us. Colbie coiled into my embrace like she needed protection. I rested my chin on top of her head and inhaled the scent of her shampoo. I didn’t know shit about flowers, but it was definitely floral and altogether the essence of Colbie.
I’d never desired to fill a void of silence, yet with Colbie, I couldn’t escape the sense of failing her. She needed more, but I didn’t know how to give it to her. Not yet. Not for months. And even then, I was clueless if I could make it happen. I acted like I’d been in love with this girl for years when I’d known her for weeks. But I couldn’t shake my feelings or where they were headed.
There, on the side of the road, we stood for an undetermined amount of time. I didn’t check my watch because I didn’t care. I just held her as tightly as I could and stroked her spine with my thumb. Eventually, her arms slipped around my waist, and all I could think about was having this perfect woman safe with me.
When she finally pulled back, she didn’t let go. Her hands stayed on my hips, and I locked my fingers together behind her. Her tongue snuck out and moistened her lips, and I prayed like hell she didn’t feel my dick twitch when she did it. I couldn’t let her kiss me, but I wouldn’t stop it, either. Instead of my mouth, her affection landed on my jaw. And I closed my eyes to enjoy the way she lingered there on her toes.
“Thank you, Eli,” she whispered into my ear.
I had no idea what I’d done to deserve her praise, but hearing my name pass her lips was even better than I’d dreamed. Sultry, yet innocent. Warm and inviting. Soft and heartfelt. One syllable, three letters. No one had ever arranged them on their tongue the way Colbie Chapman just did, and I never wanted another woman to utter them with affection.
* * *
Standing on the side of the road last weekend, I’d known something shifted in Colbie. Everything in me had believed it was good. She’d trusted me, let me comfort her. Her tears had wet my shirt, and her fingers had clung to my sides. The desire in her voice when she thanked me wasn’t something I’d fabricated. I’d seen how she looked at me before she went home. It was absolutely there.
Until Monday morning.
Colbie had given me a meek smile when she’d walked in, and then proceeded to sit in silence. Not once did she raise her hand, and when I called on her, she told me she didn’t know the answer to my question. Seven—I counted—heads turned in disbelief to stare wide-eyed at the smartest girl at Brogdon High. But when she refused to maintain eye contact, I couldn’t begin to guess what was going on. And when the bell rang, I was at the back of the class, and she rushed out the door.
But that night, once I got home and thought it was safe to message her, it seemed nothing bothered her.
Me: You were practically mute in class today. And you didn’t know an ans
wer. How can you tell me nothing’s bothering you?
Beautiful: I just had an off day.
An off day. It was possible, but who was I to question her.
Beautiful: I had a headache.
She should have led with that. It would’ve been more believable, and now it just seemed like a lie.
Me: Are you feeling better?
Beautiful: I was sick after dinner, but I’m better now.
Beautiful: How was your night?
None of this even sounded like Colbie, although I couldn’t imagine who it would have been. It was casual in a way that wasn’t her.
Me: Okay. You running in the morning?
Beautiful: Every day.
I wouldn’t just go find her, not again. She had to want to see me and tell me where she’d be. And if she didn’t, I’d sleep an hour later and run tomorrow evening the same way I planned to do tonight. In this heat, I only worked out before dawn or after dusk; otherwise, I’d have a stroke and pass out. I might be in good physical shape, but Georgia was no joke when it came to humidity.
I tossed my phone aside and gave up on getting any more from her tonight. Not being able to call or just show up on her doorstep served as a reminder of why her brother had warned me away from my students. None of this was appropriate.
I laced my tennis shoes and continued to beat myself up for crossing countless moral boundaries. No matter how many points I made in favor of dropping whatever this was with Colbie, I came up with twice as many to argue against it. And as my feet hit the pavement, I understood how cathartic miles could be. Until every song that came on reminded me of her.
So much so that when I came down the hill in the park, I swore she sat on our bench like she waited for me. I wiped the sweat from my eyes, but it didn’t remove her image. The closer I got, the more real she became. I slowed and pulled the buds from my ears.
“Cole?” I needed to slap myself and lay off the casual familiarity.
She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers, but there was zero emotion in her expression or her eyes.
I squatted in front of her and tried to catch my breath. “You all right?”
Her head bobbed up and down. My chest heaved, but I was no longer certain if my heart raced from the exercise or her presence. I couldn’t deny the effect she had on me. Everything about her was potent, or in my case, toxic.
She sat with her long legs crossed elegantly and her wrist propped on her knee. With my elbows on my knees, I took her hand in mine without bothering to check for onlookers. It was a dangerous game, yet when I was with her, I threw caution to the wind. Her pupils grew when I looked into her eyes, and her cheeks blushed a delicate pink. But she didn’t look away.
“What are you doing out here? Do your parents know you’re not home?” I sounded like an overprotective big brother. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come across that way.”
Colbie blinked, and I fidgeted until I released her fingers. And when she giggled, I couldn’t stop the tilt of my lips. “Are you always this awkward?”
I shook my head and sat next to her on the bench. “Only around enigmas.” And she was every bit that.
She shifted to face me. “You think I’m mysterious?”
“Why does that surprise you? You don’t think you’re an anomaly?”
“You mean surreptitious?” Her brow quirked.
I raised my own at her acknowledgment of the nature of it all. “Touché, but no. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Which one? I’ve avoided answering them all.”
In truth, she had. “Do you always sit on park benches alone at night?”
There was whimsy in her body language and amusement in her eyes. I loved seeing her this way, but for whatever reason, she never showed any of this if there was another soul around. Yet if it were just the two of us, her eyes glittered, her smile sparkled, and she beamed.
“Actually, no. This is a first.”
I prayed she waited for me.
“You really should jog in the mornings. This heat is oppressive.”
I chuckled. “Then why are you sitting in it?”
“Because I didn’t know where you ran.”
Colbie had zero game, and I loved that about her. There was no pretense, no hiding. She either didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to give herself away or she wasn’t interested in playing the games most girls did. It was likely a bit of both.
I leaned against the bench and watched a lone car pass the park. “You could have sent me a text to ask.”
Colbie burst out laughing. It was melodic and hypnotizing. “That probably would have been a lot easier.” She wiped tears from her cheeks as she regained her composure. “See, I’m not as smart as you think.” Her giggle settled into my chest and wrapped itself around my heart.
I didn’t have a clue where to go with this. I wanted to ask her what had upset her this morning and made her sick this afternoon, but there was no sign of either. I feared bringing it up would tear her down, and I couldn’t do that to her. “How’s the étude going?”
A car slowed in the street and honked. It spooked Colbie, but I didn’t recognize the vehicle. “Do you want to walk?”
Telling her I’d follow her anywhere probably wasn’t the manliest of answers, so I didn’t. “Sure.”
We wandered the park, and she regaled me with details of her recital. Her hands danced in the air when she described the movements, and she spun in a circle when she admitted she’d continued to play the étude faster. “You have no idea what a relief it is to get it. I’ve worked for months on that one piece.”
“How long do you have before the recital?” I already knew the time and place and date, but Colbie needed someone to show interest. It wasn’t like I had to pretend. Anything that made her happy had me intrigued, and she could go on forever about music.
“A few weeks. But I’ll make sure it’s perfect.”
That wasn’t a surprise, either. Everything Colbie did redefined the word overachieving. Although, I hated to admit, I wondered at what price that perfection came. She’d had circles under her eyes the last couple of days, and while I hadn’t seen her naked, I had seen her in some pretty skimpy running attire. She verged on being too thin. That in itself wouldn’t be an issue. It was the miles she jogged seven days a week because she “had to work harder than the other girls” that scared me. It might just be stress. I wanted to believe it was stress, because stress would ease after the recital, and she would get breaks from schoolwork at holidays and vacation. But I couldn’t deny that her home life definitely played a part.
I didn’t know the extent, yet I was certain it did. This shit with Caden and Jess was tough for anyone, but to someone like Colbie who had a small circle of people close to her, it was devastating. Regardless of what she said or didn’t say, I saw her in the halls. I’d witnessed her brother and best friend walk by without speaking to her. More often than not, she now skipped lunch and hid in the piano practice room because her best friend sat with the football players and their girlfriends. She and Jess had been cordial in class, but I’d have to be blind not to see the strain between them.
And there was nothing I could do.
The breakdown when we were jogging was a fluke. Colbie’s armor didn’t crack, and she kept that pain close to her vest. The best I could do was to seize moments like these and help keep her in them longer. My hope was to give her enough to carry her through the times I couldn’t be a part of.
“Do you ever go to the games?” Colbie’s question came out of nowhere, and then I realized, I’d drifted off into my own thoughts.
“UGA?” I didn’t know any other games we could be talking about.
She swatted playfully at my arm. “Yes, silly. Remember my recital is the weekend of the Auburn game.”
That cleared up how we got on the subject of UGA football, which I was well aware she hated. “I go to a fair number of them, but not all.”
Colbie stared off into the
darkness. “The rival’s a big game.”
“I haven’t missed one since freshman year. Even away games. This year’s is at home.”
She had lost some of the pep in her step and the playfulness in her tone. “I’m sure you’re excited about it.” Colbie assumed things she shouldn’t. “Do you ever miss being on the field?”
A laugh bubbled in my chest and erupted from my mouth. “No. I miss being part of a team, but I’m too old to be beaten up on a daily basis. Football is rough on the body.”
“I doubt that.” A jovial lilt returned to her tone as she denied me.
“Doubt what? Have you ever been tackled by a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound linebacker? That crap hurts.” I chuckled, but it was the truth. I did not miss constant bruises and sore muscles. I missed the camaraderie that I hadn’t had since I graduated and we all went separate ways.
In some ways, Colbie and I were in similar situations. Her family was absent, as was mine, although for different reasons. I had one friend in town, and he’d gotten married. She had Jess, who had coupled off with Caden. And both of us were counting down the days until she graduated.
“Obviously, I haven’t had that experience, but I was referring to you being too old. You’re only six years older than I am.”
And when she put it that way, it didn’t seem like a lifetime of experience that separated us, only a few days on a calendar. Every day I added another justification to my list of reasons why this wasn’t wrong and crossed another one off.
Somehow, we’d wandered in a huge circle and had come close to her house, although I hadn’t noticed until she stopped and stared across the street. There weren’t any lights on, and when I glanced at Colbie, her eyes hinted at the sadness that we’d chased away while we’d been together.
Her Perfect Page 12