by Jessica Kile
It came as a complete shock to find Drew on the treadmill beside the one she always used.
Not wanting to disturb him, she stepped on and hit the walk setting to begin. Her iPod played Five Finger Death Punch. The longer she listened to the music the faster she walked, until she was running as fast as the treadmill would allow. Oddly enough she felt no need to be alert to who was around her. She didn't jump anytime someone passed too closely beside her. They weren't talking but just knowing he was close allowed her to let her guard down.
Before she knew it an hour had gone by. She forced herself to begin her cool down. Drew also finished his workout and was standing at the end of the row talking to some guy who looked like he was best friends with Floyd Mayweather. The same guy she did her best to avoid on a regular basis. He was intimidating.
Drew reached out, as she walked passed him; pulling her to a stop.
“What?” he asked with a lazy grin. “I don’t even get a hi tonight?”
She eyed the other man wearily; before turning her gaze to Drew. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You,” he said, moving in front of her, “are never a bother.”
“You were in the middle of a conversation,” she said.
“I see that dumb-ass every day,” he told her, using her hand to tug her closer to him. “Chris was just annoying me while I waited on you.”
“Hey,” the guy responded, “I take offense to that.”
Drew rested a hand on the part of her waist not covered by her workout tank. Sparks scattered across her stomach. “So, how was your first day?”
A groan escaped before she could stop it.
He grinned. “It couldn't have been that bad?”
She arched a brow. “Don’t believe me? Go ask the floor that kept getting scalded by coffee.”
Drew was rubbing circles on her stomach with his thumb. “You know what fixes bad days? Really good tacos. Let’s go get some.”
“Worst line ever,” Chris shot out at him.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m all sweaty. I just want to go home and shower.”
“You go home and shower,” Drew told her. “I’ll make a run to Taco Bell and come straight to your place. I showered while you were finishing your work out.”
“I don’t get tacos,” Chris whined.
“Sure, you can have tacos,” Drew said. “All you have to do is go and buy them yourself.”
“And I thought you loved me,” Chris laughed, walking away from them.
“Roommates,” Drew said. “So, what do you say?”
Just then her stomach decided to alert the gym she hadn't taken time to eat since breakfast that morning.
“That settles it,” Drew announced, dropping a lite kiss to her sweating nose. “I’m getting you food.”
“Follow me to my car. I left my wallet in my bag,” she told him, walking around him.
“I’m walking you to your car,” he agreed, “but you’re not giving me a penny.”
“But,” she complained, walking out the main door. “You bought breakfast yesterday.”
“I’m buying dinner tonight,” he told her. “Don’t even bother arguing with me. I'll win.”
***************************
Thirty minutes later, Drew stood outside of Lana’s door holding a box of tacos and two fountain drinks. Visions of her in the shower were still floating through his head when she answered the door in a pair of sweat pants and baggy shirt.
“Hi,” she said softly, opening the door wider.
He turned sideways to squeeze between her and the door. Luckily he didn't see any signs of Ricky anywhere as he took up residency on her couch. Judging by the stack of books and fuzzy throw this was where Lana spent most of her time.
Drew caught Lana around the waist as she tried to head to the recliner. No way was he going to let her sit half way across the room. She stiffened for a split second but relaxed as he placed her on the couch with just the right amount of space between them.
“I take it the dip-shit isn’t here?” he stated, handing her a drink.
“Are you ever going to like him?” she asked, reaching for a soft shell taco.
He bit into a taco and swallowed before answering. “Probably not.”
She sighed. “He really is a good guy.”
Seeing that she was seconds from getting upset, he sat back against the couch. He was fighting the need to touch her. “I didn’t come here to talk about him.”
Lana leaned across him to grab the remote control from the stand causing his nose to catch the scent of her fruity perfume. “Why did you come here?”
Did she really just ask that question?
“You really have to ask that?”
She remained silent as she scrolled down the guide on the TV.
“Has Ricky knocked your confidence down that much?” he questioned.
“It wasn’t him,” she whispered, setting her taco down on the small coffee table.
Something tightened around his heart as he watched her concentrate a little too hard on finding something to watch. Clearly whatever she'd been through had done a number on her.
She needed to be distracted from her dark place. “So, why do you think your day was so bad?”
“I dropped more coffee than I served,” Lana admitted, as she relaxed against the couch. “I burnt a batch of cookies. Would you like me to continue?”
Finished with his tacos he angled his body to face her; his knee touched her hip. “It sounds like a typical first day.”
“It was horrible.”
He tugged on a strand of her hair. “How can I make it better?” Immediately, he cringed at the way it came out. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”
His comments made her blush. “I really don’t want to talk about work anymore.”
“Done.” Giving into his desire to touch her, he began massaging her neck. “What do you want to talk about?”
Her head fell forward with a soft sigh.
“Or, do you just want to sit here and watch TV.,” he asked, his fingers continuing to work loose the knots. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
He laughed when he heard her whisper, “Just don’t stop.”
“Turn around,” he demanded.
As soon as she turned her back to him, he put both of his hands to work massaging her shoulders. Slowly, her body began to relax until she was leaning back against his chest. His legs rested on each side of her on the couch.
“I cannot believe people willingly do this crap,” Lana announced, fifteen minutes later, referring to the jackass show.
“You picked the show,” he reminded her with a laugh. He lazily twisted a strand of her hair around his finger.
“You said you liked the show,” she reminded him. “I think they are complete idiots.”
“You’re right,” he told her. “But it’s funny.”
Just then the door flew open and Ricky came in, singing an odd rendition of ‘if you’re happy and you know it’. Happy was replaced by sexy.
Lana pressed her head into Drew’s chest, groaning. “He went clubbing tonight.”
At least that explained the song.
Ricky leaned over the couch. “Hey, sexy.”
“He better be talking to you,” Drew said, tickling Lana causing her to squirm.
Drew felt Ricky’s nose go into his hair. “You smell good.”
Drew was all about gay rights. Who others fall are attracted to didn't concern him. His coolness stopped once he was hit on.
“Lana,” Drew said with warning in his voice.
“Ricky,” Lana laughed, “down boy. He’s not that into you.”
“I love that movie,” Ricky said, tugging on Drew’s pony tail. “Watch it with me.”
“Are you blind?” Drew asked him. “Lana is in my lap. What makes you think I'd want anything to do with you?”
Ricky pouted. “But I dance so much better.”
Lana shrugged, helplessly, through
another onset of giggles. “It’s true. I kind of look like a clown when I dance.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Drew said. “Call Jerome, Ricky.”
“He’s boring,” Ricky complained. “He doesn’t dance.”
“Neither do I,” Drew told him, “especially with you.”
Drew held Lana closer to him hoping to send signals to her friend. He sent signals to another part of his body instead. She felt right in his arms. Now, if he could just get rid of Ricky.
Lana reached up and flicked Ricky on the nose. “Go to bed.” When he looked at Drew she added, “Alone.”
Ricky sighed dramatically, “OK. Who wants to tuck me in?”
Lana laughed, shoving his head away. “Go!”
He laughed and staggered to his bedroom. There was a loud thump as Ricky ran into something. “I'm OK!”
Lana laughed, relaxing her head back against his shoulder. “I’m sorry about that.”
Drew ran his hand down her arm to get to her hand. “He always try to steal your boyfriends?”
“You’re not my boyfriend,” she said. “Technically, it wouldn’t be stealing.”
He brought her hand up to his mouth and dropped a kiss there. “I thought I would be at least half way to that status by now.”
She arched a brow. “How do you figure?”
Drew began to count off on his free hand. “Breakfast, that’s date number one. Tonight would be our second. Then Saturday night is Chris’ football kick-off party, that’s number three.”
“First,” she said, “I didn’t know these were dates. Second, I thought you were playing Lux on Saturday?”
He shook his head, “That's Friday night. Saturday night I am completely yours.”
“I’m not sure about going to a party.”
“It’s just a few people sitting around eating some food, drinking some beers, and watching the game,” he said. “We're too lazy to go down to the field.”
“OK,” she relented, “if you’re sure.”
A look at the clock told him it was time for him to head out. Morning came early.
“Honey, I gotta get out of here,” he told her. “And you need to get your cute little butt to bed.”
Lana pulled away from him. “Thanks for tonight. I’m sorry about Ricky. He can get weird sometimes.”
Drew dropped a kiss on her forehead. “See you in class tomorrow.” He made his way out the door before he changed his mind about giving her a real kiss.
*****************
The next morning, Lana eyed the different options in the vending machine. Once again she had rushed out of the apartment without eating breakfast. Since one could not live on coffee alone, her stomach had started its protest. She chose the honey cinnamon bun. Maybe if she squinted really hard she could trick herself into believing it was a glazed doughnut.
She was too focused on opening her snack, as she headed towards class, to notice Drew sneak up behind her. When his arm dropped over her shoulders she about cleared her skin. His familiar scent kept her anchored to the ground.
“That is not a proper breakfast,” Drew informed her.
She rolled her eyes and spoke around a bite of the goodness. “This coming from the guy who thinks tacos make every day a good day?”
“Hey, now,” he stated, steering her around a couple who seemed more concerned with each other' tongues than getting to class, “no smack talking the taco.”
“Then, back off of my honey bun,” she said sweetly.
“Nothing wrong with a honey bun,” he told her, just as he bent his head to steal a bite of the treat before she knew what he planned.
“I cannot believe you just did that,” she said, as they walked into their Legal Terminology Class. He guided her to a set of seats in the back.
The professor launched into a lecture on land contracts and deeds before Drew could make a comment. Lana did her best to concentrate on taking notes. Drew was once again playing that stupid game on his phone. Every once in a while he would elbow her and cause her pen to dance across her notebook. She would glare at him. He would give her that teasing grin of his. Just like that all would be forgiven. It was a vicious cycle.
Would he still be here if he knew she were damaged goods? It was a question that had run through her mind since the night he had driven her home from the party. Could she really afford to let him get too close? Was she setting herself up for heartbreak?
“I won’t be at the gym tonight,” his whisper tickled her ear. “I have band practice.”
She shrugged. “Until last night I had no clue that you even worked out.”
Big lie. Big fat lie. She had found herself staring at his arms a million times while he played at the party the other night. It was an even bigger lie that his missing tonight was no big deal to her. No time to examine what that even meant.
“You know, you could always skip the gym and crash rehearsals,” he suggested, sounding almost hopeful.
That seemed way too personal. Something that only a girlfriend would do. A big step towards relationship status. A step that Lana was not sure that she was ready to make. Or, if she should even take that step. A fist slowly squeezed around her heart as she realized she was not prepared to take this where he wanted things to go.
“It’s cool,” she said, feeling anything but cool at the moment. “I’ll go to the gym. You do your thing.”
He pouted, teasingly. “Fine. It’s your loss.”
“Listening to you guys argue about this week’s set list is not at the top of my to-do list,” she informed him, as she began gathering her things into her book bag.
“We don’t argue,” Drew told her, following her out the door. “Not much anyway.”
“Still, I think, I’ll skip it.”
“I’ll call you,” Drew hollered after her retreating back.
**************************
‘She’s not here.’
Drew stared down at the text message from Chris. He had asked his roommate to make sure she had made it to the gym safely, since he could not be there. Concern filled him. If she was not with him and she had not shown up at the gym; where the hell was she?
He cast a look at the entrance of the rented auditorium. It was empty. The rational side of his brain told him she had no reason to inform him of any changes in her plan.
Damn it! Lana never missed a night at the gym. At least not since he had known her. That knowledge sent him out the door and to his car.
Lana opened her apartment door after the third knock. Relief washed through him when she appeared to be unharmed. Slightly annoyed but unharmed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him, propping the door open with her hip.
“You didn’t go to the gym,” he informed her.
She nodded slowly. “I ended up having to write a….” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. How do you know I didn’t go to the gym?”
How dangerous would it be if he told her that he had checked on her via Chris? Judging by the look currently on her face, he figured his balls would be safer if he played dumb.
“Practice let out early,” he lied, moving so that she was forced to open the door wider. “So, I figured I would take you out for dinner.”
Lana looked over her shoulder at the clock on the wall. “At nine o’clock?”
He arched a brow. “Are you saying you already had dinner?”
She sighed. “No, but I have a paper that I’m working on.”
“Well, you have to eat.”
“I’m not going out,” she refused, “I’m in my Pj's.”
Drew eyed the fuzzy short shorts that revealed a whole lot of leg and a tight tank. “Definitely don’t want you changing out of that.”
She blushed.
“Go ahead and work on your paper,” he told her, backing out of the door before he could reach out for her. “I’m going to go grab some Chinese. Whatever you do, don’t change.”
Drew cast one last long look at her smooth white legs befo
re he darted down the hall.
***************************
Lana laid in bed that night tossing, and turning. Drew had managed to get her to talk about her family that night over Chinese food. They laughed at stories of her childhood growing up with brothers. It had been a while since she had thought of those times.
Over the past couple of years her brothers had all found wives or girlfriends and moved on with their lives. She was left to suffer alone at her parents' house. With no one else to distract him, her father had centered his attention on her. He was only satisfied if she brought home straight A's. There were times she had hated her brothers for leaving her alone.
Tonight she realized how much she missed her brothers. Christmas cards, sporadic texts, and visits were the only communication she had with them these days. Once she was away from home the texts had all but stopped.
It had been so easy to open up to Drew about her family. If only it were easy to tell him everything.
She went to sleep knowing he would never know the truth of what happened to her.
Chapter 4
It was the first game of the Mountaineer football season and Drew’s apartment was filled to its capacity. Lana sat tucked against his side holding her bottle of water. What she was even doing here? She didn't fit in among the crowd filled with a mix of boxer wannabes and girls who had to be groupies picked up the night before.
Chris sat down beside her and pulled one of the girls down on his lap. Lana eyed them out of the corner of her eye, then darted a glance at the door. Would anybody notice if she ran out the door?
Drew’s arm tightened around her shoulders, letting her know he knew what she was planning.“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. “Nobody is paying attention to you.”
A couple of the guys were arguing over their predictions of the outcome of the game. Another set was taking bets. A group of obviously bored girls were discussing plans for a psychology project.
It was safe to assume that nobody was paying a bit of attention to her, but that knowledge didn't stop the steady hammering of her pulse in her ears. Or the sweat making a slow path down her spine. Was it a million degrees in here?