Allison Parr - Running Back

“Because going over to his room late at night isn’t awkward?”

I glanced at the clock. “It’s only eight-ten. And won’t admitting this is strange be better than saying nothing?”

She shook her head. “There’s no avoiding awkwardness. You just have to muddle through it until everyone’s made peace.”

Despite that, I still headed across the hall after disconnecting from Cam. I collected my half eaten bag of Reeses, and glanced quickly in the mirror. The reflection wasn’t impressive, but I wasn’t supposed to care about that. I made a face and then stepped out through my door, closing it firmly behind me.

Mike’s door loomed ahead. Well, the bird decal and light green paint kept the looming from being too impressive, but still. I stared at that bird for at least a minute, breathing shallowly, before I took two quick steps across the hall and banged loudly on his door.

It swung inward almost immediately. Mike stood there, ruffling his gleaming curls with a towel. He’d slung another around his waist. It dipped dangerously low. “Hey.”

Instead of answering, I watched water trickle down his neck, tracing down his bare, tan chest, and slipping over his well-defined abdomen.

“Like what you see?”

I dragged my gaze up to his grinning face. “Shouldn’t you not open your door half naked?”

His grin widened and he shrugged nonchalantly.

My gaze slipped down again, and I yanked them up as my cheeks burned. “Uh. Sorry. I can come back some other time.”

His eyes danced. “Just give me five.”

I nodded as I backed away, but once I’d closed my door I leaned against it and let out a moan.

Apparently not quietly enough, because I heard a low chuckle through my door. I tossed the candy on the dresser and then flung myself onto my bed, this time using my pillow to muffle my embarrassment.

For five impossibly long minutes, I tried to make myself breathe deeply and think of something calming and non-sexual. Unfortunately, I was having a hard time coming up with non-sexual objects. Or not just straight up picturing Mike’s body.

I had the worst timing in the history of the world.

Then again, he could have thrown a shirt on. Who answered the door practically naked? I could have been room service. He could have scarred someone.

Then again, he hadn’t seemed surprised to see me, and my door had a peek-hole. So maybe he’d chosen not to put a shirt on.

Okay. I had to stop overthinking everything.

Over five minutes had passed, so I picked up the goods and went back to his door. This time, Mike wore jeans and a Leopard’s T-shirt when he opened the door.

“Sorry,” I said automatically. “About—earlier.”

“No worries. What’s up?”

I lifted the Reeses. “I brought peace offerings.”

He stepped back and I moved inside his room. It had the same set up as mine, but there were already marks of his presence, sneakers and shirts tossed carelessly about. A set of weights lay in one corner, a football beside them. I wondered if he had anyone to practice with here.

The door clicked shut behind me and I turned back to Mike. He cocked his head at the half-eaten bag of candy. “That’s a pretty paltry olive branch.”

“I know. I was munchy earlier.” When he sat on his bed, I took it as my cue to curl up in an overstuffed mint-green armchair several feet away. He didn’t look away from me as he leaned against the headboard, his long legs sprawled out before him.

I took a deep breath. “Look, I know it’s a little awkward, me being here. Especially when I’m sort of a work problem and this is your personal life, and your family’s here... If it bothers you, I can get a room in Cork.” The bus ride would take an hour to get to the village, but that would be preferable to dealing with Mike if he didn’t want me here. “So, I don’t know, I just of thought if you had any issues you wanted aired, we could air them. Now. Until we’re cool.”

He stared at me.

I sank my head into my hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not a very eloquent speaker. Which sort of sucks, because I have a speech to give in September and I’m already freaking out about it.” I sighed and looked up. “How are you so together?”

He popped a Reeses in his mouth. “I’m not together.”

I scoffed.

“Didn’t you see my family down there?”

His warm, entertaining family that was so comfortable with one another that they could pick and snap at each other without fear of damaging their relationships? “Yeah. They’re wonderful.”

“Wonderful in moderation.”

“I mean it. They’re great.”

He cocked his head at my tone. “What’s that mean?”

All right, maybe I’d been a little too emphatic. I lifted my shoulders in slight embarrassment. “They were great.”

His eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Didn’t you notice my little sister storming out?”

I dismissed that with a wave of my hand. “She’s seventeen.”

“Yeah, old enough to know better. Were you like that at seventeen?”

I’d been president of National Honors Society, president of the French club, vice-president of the Sobriety Council, junior member of the Rotary Club and a choir member. For my seventeenth birthday party, my parents’ friends’ children and several members of my class had come over for a catered dinner by a local celebrity chef.

That year, like the sixteen before it, I had spent almost every day wanting to gouge my eyes out in the few moments I didn’t feel numb.

“At least she has a personality,” I said firmly.

“What, and you didn’t?”

I shrugged. “I had personas.” The perfect daughter, the perfect student. “Pretty boring. I’d take cursing goth kids any day.”

He groaned. “She’s dating some baby biker dude. Instead of going to college she wants to work in his sister’s tattoo parlor.”

“Well. I guess she won’t have to worry about student loans?”

“She won’t have loans. I’m paying.”

“Maybe she wants to be fiscally responsible.”

He shot me a look. “Yeah, that sounds like Anna.”

“It’s not exactly easy, having perfect older brothers.”

He raised a brow. “Which you know about?”

I shrugged. “Maybe not perfect. But I always felt second-best.”

“Why?”

“Oh.” Now I felt silly, because I hadn’t meant the conversation to come around to me, and I actively avoided talking about my family to anyone besides Cam. “My brothers are from my dad’s first marriage, and I think he kind of preferred them. Not a big deal or anything, he just didn’t know how to relate to me.”

He tilted his head. His hair, still straightened from his shower, was beginning to dry and curl. “Sounds like a big deal.”

Suddenly edgy, I jumped up and walked to the window. He had a view out the back of the inn, toward several cottages and the endless rolling hills and hedgerows. Lavender clouds rolled across the deepening blue night. “It really wasn’t. What about you? Where’s your dad?” A second after the words left my mouth, I remembered that his dad had to be gone for him to inherit Kilkarten. I turned to see him, my eyes widening. “I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

We were both silent, but neither of us looked away. I could feel the space of the room constraining, or his presence growing, until it was as though I could only see him. My head felt light. I broke contact first and headed back to the armchair, busying myself with settling back in. “Anna must have been little.”

“Seven.”

Wow.

“What’s that look for?”

I raised my eyes, startled at the question. “I wasn’t giving you a look.”

His smile contained a hint of skepticism. “Yeah, you were.”