Cody
The minute I walked back in my house, I regretted it. I left my angel alone in her bed. And for the life of me, I can’t remember why. Only that I just had to get out of there. Steve looks up from his doggie bed in the corner of my room, but that’s it. He just raises his head and looks at me. I swear I saw him shake his head at me before laying it back down and going back to sleep. Granted, its three o’clock in the morning.
I step into my closet, a closet that feels huge, for the first time too big for one man. I kick off my boots and realize my belt is somewhere at Angel’s. It’ll probably be weird. Shit. I should apologize for being a tool. I strip off my socks and throw them in the hamper. I pull my t-shirt off to follow suit, but when it passes over my face, I smell Angel and me mixed together and I’m hard again. Fuck.
I strip my jeans off and head for bed, but when I get to it, I can’t even bring myself to pull the covers back let alone climb in. Instead, I sit in the arm chair in the corner that faces my bed. I spend the next three hours imagining what Angel would look like in my bed. Her soft, blonde curls splayed out on my pillow. Watching her coming undone in my arms again. Her tiny body snuggled softly into my hard one as she sleeps with that little smile that plays on her face. Shit.
I’m losing my mind. I drop my head into my hands and for some reason, want to cry. It was one night, one date. Why am I so bent out of shape over the fact that I probably fucked everything up by sneaking out? Why did the thought of staying scare the shit out of me so bad?
Six o’clock rolls around and I’m still awake so I know what I have to do. I stand up and walk back into my closet, stripping out of my boxers as I go. I grab my favorite pair of running shorts. The short little ones that make all the girls tongues fall out when they see them. But that’s not why I wear them. They are so freaking comfortable. I tie the little string tight because, I don’t need a wardrobe malfunction in the town I grew up in. I’m still relatively famous so you know that shit would end up on the internet.
I grab my favorite running shoes and lace up. A couple of deep quad stretches and some calf stretches. I roll my shoulders and head out into the early morning gray. Nothing like ten grueling miles to get your heart pumping and clear your head.
I open my front door and am greeted by Steve who is holding his leash in his mouth. This is his passive aggressive attempt to tell me I forgot something this morning. Or really, someone. Namely, Steve.
“Oh, so now you like me,” Steve just wags his tail. Fluffy bastard will do anything for a run. “Ok, buddy. Let’s go,” Steve jumps up. I quickly clip his leash to his collar and head back out, this time my furry buddy in tow.
Steve and I do another three miles. He easily keeps up with me. We’ve been running every day since he was a pup. He helped me get back on my feet more than he will ever know. Or, maybe he does. Either way, I love him.
When we get back, Steve and I both head to the kitchen for a much needed water break followed by some more deep stretches. Ok, I stretched, he flopped down on his living room doggie bed and took a deep nap. I followed up with a trip to my weight room and spent the rest of the late morning making the rest of my body ache the way my heart did. That afternoon, after I showered, I really lived it up and did my laundry.
For dinner, I pan grilled chicken breast with tomatoes and spinach and had a little brown rice on the side. Man, I am just a party a minute. But while my Sunday was anything but fun, I have a plan. I am going to talk to Angel first thing in the morning. So, tonight, Steve and I head to bed for a good night’s sleep.
What a bunch of bullshit. I don’t think I have ever not slept this much in my entire fucking life. I’m pretty sure Steve is plotting my death for keeping him up all night with my tossing and turning. It’s like my brain just wouldn’t turn off. I pretty much hate myself. Yesterday, I was so busy, I didn’t have time to doubt my plan to make Angel see that I’m an idiot and I deserve another chance. Now, I’m a fucking mess.
I get up before my alarm and shut it off. Steve and I head out for another quick run but it does little to improve my mood. Steve is glowering at me for ruining his run.
When we head into the kitchen for a water refresher, I look at the coffeepot and briefly consider just pouring the pot straight down my throat.
I make my way into my bathroom, stripping of my workout gear as I go, and turn the water to hot, but quickly change my mind. I let out a less than manly shriek as I stepped into a shower of water that had to come straight from the Arctic Tundra. As I soap up, I picture Angel’s small,but strong hands on my body again in my mind. This is not helping my situation. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. And if that man wears athletic pants and a football polo every day to work to coach teenage boys who are very sex crazed, that man does not show up to work with a woody. So, this man, takes matters into his own hand. Literally. I wrap my hand around my cock and remember Angel’s soft body, her needy cries for more. I brace myself against the shower wall with my other hand and in an embarrassingly short number of strokes, I pop off like a rocket. The sad thing is, I’m still half hard. Well, a half chub is better than a full one I guess.
I quickly rinse back off and step out of the shower. I towel off and head to my closet. I make quick work of my work uniform. Black track pants with black athletic stripes down the sides of the leg over my gray boxer briefs, and a teal polo with the War Eagle logo on them. Teal doesn’t exactly say tough and manly to me, but I don’t make the rules, I just coach the kids. I lace up my running shoes and clip my school ID badge to my hip. I put my wallet and cell phone in my pockets and grab my keys. I eat a speedy breakfast and head out the door.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Steve!” I shout on my way out but he just groans and goes back to sleep.
The drive to the school is relatively short and before I know it, I am pulling my truck into my spot in the parking lot and majorly chickening out. Shit.
First period is spent conditioning our varsity team. Sam and I stand on the sidelines of the track watching the boys run wind sprints.
“So….” Sam starts, laughter in his eyes. “I heard you took our sexy nurse out Saturday night,” he tells me.
“You already know this. You were there when I asked her out,” I tell him checking my watch for the kids’ times.
“I also heard your truck was parked in front of her house until reallyreallyearly in the morning.” This, I also knew, but didn’t know was common knowledge. Granted, sometimes this town is about as big as a postage stamp so anything is possible.
“If you already know, why are you asking me?”
“Because you are not looking like a man who had his world rocked by nurse sin,” I groan. “In fact, you’re looking pretty pitiful,” he tells me.
“Because I ran. At like three o’clock in the morning. And now I’m fucked.”
“Well, maybe you can talk to her about it, instead of being a chicken shit,” he tells me. And he’s right, I am being a chicken shit. But now, I know I fucked up. What if I try to apologize, try for more and she rejects me. In my head I know that would hurt so much more than the betrayal Kimmy dished out in New York.
The rest of the day passes with my coaches and I running training drills with the kids, and then meetings about how we want to form and train our team for next year. There is a lot of pressure on us to take the team all the way to state this year. I would love to see the boys accomplish that. I know they can if they just work hard enough.
By the time lunch rolls around, I’m pretty much done for the day. I grab a chicken salad sandwich and a coke from the cafeteria and make my way to the staff lounge. I see my dad and Sam and head on over to their table.
“Hey, dad, how’s it going?” I ask him. My dad is the best guy I know. I love seeing him every day and honestly, I don’t know what would have happened to me if he hadn’t offered me this opportunity.
