I saw him as I walked to the crew house from the parking lot and watched him in the short moment I had before I knew he would notice me. He was wearing an old, gray Stanford t-shirt and black shorts. Even though his shirt was somewhat loose, I could still see how it molded to what appeared to be well-defined pecs and a lean torso and waist. The muscles on his legs were long and sinewy. It was clear he worked out; he had the body of an athlete.
I was wearing a relatively tight-fitting white tank top and black shorts with a white stripe on the side. I took extra care in making sure I picked out the appropriate running attire that said I was a serious runner, but I could look cute too. For the most part, I liked my body and took efforts to keep myself healthy and fit. I wore a C–cup and had moderate curves, but unfortunately I had little ass to speak of. I kept hoping running would bulk it up … alas …
Ryan turned and saw me as I crossed the street. He greeted me with a gorgeous double-dimpled smile and I melted at the sight of him. I walked up to him and we embraced, but he pulled away from me relatively quickly. After the hot and heavy kiss we shared less than two days ago, I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed.
Greenlake had a nicely paved trail lined with trees and flowers surrounding its three mile perimeter. It wasn’t too crowded this evening, despite the nice weather, probably because it was Monday and people were still recovering from the weekend. The lake was dotted with Tudor-style homes and the occasional contemporary condo, and on the northwest side of the lake, there were lots of shops and casual restaurants. If you lived in the Greenlake neighborhood, there were two unofficial prerequisites to being a resident: you must own a dog and you must enjoy running. I didn’t have a dog, but whenever I came to Greenlake, I wish I did.
We ran around the lake at a leisurely pace, slow enough that we could breathe and talk while we ran. The conversation was light as we talked about our days. Ryan had been in meetings all day, as he was every day. It was a critical time for the company due to the upcoming launch, but he had a great admin, Shelly, who helped keep track of his crazy calendar. In my previous job, it was a normal week for me to be double and triple booked in meetings all day, every day. I think once I counted forty two meetings in one week on my schedule. MS was meeting crazy—they even had meetings to plan meetings! I could only imagine how insane Ryan’s calendar was. My day today was simple compared to his, but he sounded genuinely curious and intrigued by the minor details of it.
When I had the energy, I could run twice around the lake. When I was short on time or just exhausted, it was usually just the one time. Near the end of our loop, I asked if he was up to doing another. Maybe it was the natural high I got from just being around him or all the energy I needed to burn off, but I barely felt winded.
“You realize I’m an old man. I can’t guarantee I’ll finish the whole next lap.” He sounded self- deprecatingly, but I think he was somewhat serious. “You don’t even look tired,” he observed, leaning forward with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
“I will after we’ve done another lap. Trust me,” I assured him. I grinned and took off, not giving him the chance to talk us out of it.
Ryan had no problem keeping up and we got about halfway around the second loop when decided to finish our run a mile early and grab dinner. After stretching and getting our breath back, I suggested a little Mexican place across the street from the volleyball courts.
Ryan grabbed a table out on the patio looking out towards the lake. It was warm outside and we were both beat. I was tired and sweaty after the run, but I felt that self-satisfied, satiated feeling I got after a really great workout. I noticed that a sweaty Ryan was a sexy Ryan.
“I know I should be drinking more water right now, but this beer tastes so darn good.” I took a long swig of my Corona and then smacked my lips in a completely unladylike fashion.
He nodded in agreement as he took another drink from his own bottle. “I find you so attractive right now.” He laughed, sounding lighthearted.
“You mean sweaty and guzzling beer?”
“It’s every man’s dream,” he agreed. He was smiling, but his eyes were glazed.
They called our number, signaling that our food was ready and we could pick it up at the counter. We were both starving, having worked up a good appetite from the run.
“Wow, this is really good,” he muttered between bites of his chicken enchilada.
I nodded, too focused on eating my tamale to speak. We continued to eat our meal in comfortable silence, watching the passersby.
“Julia, about Anna’s wedding …” he began.