Every Girl Does It(5)

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a subtle movement , but I still can’t bring myself to look at his face.. Focusing on my running, my breathing, I keep my eyes trained ahead. His continuing glances feel like silent challenges, so I hit the up button on my speed and go to eight miles an hour, then ten. Now I’m sprinting, and he’s sprinting. He’s running faster, so I push mine up one more time before realizing that my balance is momentarily off. And yes, you guessed it, I fly off of the treadmill into the bench behind me.

“Amanda?”

So this is what happens when you get knocked out. You see hot men in your dreams. Through the haze, I see a pair of stormy green eyes looking down at me. Dazed, I reach up to touch the face of my ruggedly handsome rescuer and come into contact with warm skin. My fingers tingle as the man’s face breaks into a gentle smile. Not trusting my own voice, I sit in silence as the fog begins to clear. The man reaches out to brush some hair from my face. The touch of his fingers sends my stomach whirling.

“Wow,” I whisper reverently. To my horror, I realize within five seconds of opening my mouth that I’m not unconscious. And the runner next to me is, in fact, Mr. Fireman Preston himself.

“Wow? What do you mean wow? Am I supposed to thank you for complimenting me after you raced me to your almost death?”

I didn’t realize I was still staring at his chest until he cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

“I think so. I don’t see any blood.” Trying to cover my behavior, I say, “I don’t know what happened.” Liar.

“Oh, you mean you don’t remember challenging me to that race just a few minutes ago? Or how about the part where you watched me punch your sorry boyfriend in the face, or maybe—”

I put my hand in the air between us to give him a signal to stop talking. I mean, come on now, he’s just being rude.

“I’ll have you know,” I interrupt with fists clenched, “that he is not my boyfriend.” I’m so close to him that I can smell the mixture of salty sweat and cologne radiating off his body. It takes every ounce of self-control I possessed not to lean in closer.

“Did you or did you not date him, though?” He crosses his bulky arms as if in challenge.

“Maybe...I mean…” No words. Since when do I have no words?

“You mean, you what?” He bites his lip, drawing my attention to his perfectly sensual mouth. It’s every girls dream of what a man’s lips should look like up close. Smooth and taunting. “Amanda, are you sure you’re okay? You can hardly focus right now. Sit down or something. You’re making me nervous.”

He leads me to the bench, as I outwardly mock him by copying his words. “You’re making me nervous.“Only I use a really whiny voice making me sound all the more pathetic with my comeback. “Stop acting like a five year old, Amanda. I’m not your dad. But I should punish you for dating such an idiot. Come on.” His eyes scan the basketball courts below before again resting on my face. Why can’t I act like a normal grown up?

“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “It’s just been a long day.” I shrug as I make eye contact for the first time since this afternoon.

His eyes were sparkling with mischief. “I bet. What with your boyfriend trying to steal the bride and all.” He isn’t even trying to hide his laugh as I punch him in the side.

“How do you even know that’s true?” I shriek not caring that people are now staring at us. Yelling wasn’t the wisest choice, but this man is ridiculous. What gives him the right to judge me?

“Um, sorry to break it to you, but the entire town knows the story. He spilled it to everyone when he went back into the reception. Perhaps he was hoping for sympathy, it’s hard losing not one but two girls in one day.” His gaze turns sympathetic as he notices my obvious anger at the idea of Derek telling everyone that we dated.

“I’ll kill him.”

Preston’s eyes turn speculative as if he’s trying to see if I have it in me to be that violent. I twist away to hide my bluff. So I won’t kill him, but giving him a black eye sure sounds good.

“No you won’t. He’s just being a stupid guy.” Preston uses the towel in his hands to wipe his face then throws it onto the bench. “So, figure out who I am yet?”

Why is lying a sin? Desperate for any other option but the truth, I weigh the alternative, which of course is lying, but I’m terrible at it. My own cat can tell when I’m being dishonest. When I leave on vacation and promise to be right back, she just looks at me and growls. Any sort of irritated noise from Mrs. Butterworth is far worse than your average housecat. Since she’s a Sphinx, she has no hair which adds to her charm, or lack thereof. However, if she doesn’t believe me when I lie, why would Preston?

Gathering my courage, I raise my chin to even the odds, but fail miserably as my eyes lock on his chest. Since when did he get so tall? My chin juts out as my eyes slowly rise to meet his piercing gaze. “Yes, you’re Preston. I remember you from high school. Good to see you again. Well, I should be off. I could have a concussion, you know.” My body turns as I mentally tell my legs to pump faster, but to no avail. I sense his presence stalking close behind me, too close for my personal comfort. How is it that I can still smell him?

“So that’s it? No, ‘oh hey, Preston, what are you doing with your life’? Or, ‘sorry for lying to you in front of the entire school’. Or maybe this one, ‘thanks for punching the creep I call a boyfriend in the face’? Seriously, go ahead, choose any one of those phrases. I’ll wait.”