"But what would have happened at the beach if I wasn’t there, Laney?" He asks as he stops at a red light. I expected him to roll through it so I brake quickly, and walk my bike back to him at the corner.
"I would have figured it out."
"But how?" He asks and he reaches a hand out to cover mine. "Jesus even now your hands are cold."
"I'll warm up as we go." I say. "C'mon." I nod to the road and we both clip in and head for the lake.
"Holy crap!" I giggle as we stomp to a stop after our run. I feel good, the pace was a challenge but not brutal. Miguel taps a few things on his fancy GPS watch.
"Laney, you just crushed a brick and did it at a faster pace than we'd targeted." He says with huffed breaths as he checks his watch.
"What?"
"Yeah, you finished at 6 minutes and 44 seconds per mile. I think if we get another VO2in-oof!"
Miguel's training plan is cut short when I jump into his arms. Or rather, jump onto him and he reacts quickly enough to catch me.
"6:44?" I ask as a smile spreads wide across my face. This is the fastest I've ever run this distance.
"Yeah baby, 6:44." Miguel says with a returning smile that would make my knees weak if they weren't currently wrapped tightly around him. His eyes move from mine and I track their path to my mouth, my neck, and then I feel his fingers splay wider against my ribcage where his arms have encircled me. The brush is light but I feel it everywhere.
I’m tired of fighting this.
I need him.
"Miguel?" He brings his eyes back to mine at the sound of his name. "Please kiss me."
"Laney," my name on his lips is laced with pain. "That's not a good idea." He whispers back as he stares at my mouth.
His hold on me loosens ever so slightly and I untangle my limbs from around his body. Cold immediately burns every spotwhere his hands had been on me. "Laney." He calls quietly as I dip my chin and turn away from him.
"It's fine. Just swept up in the excitement of the moment. No biggie. I'm cool. So cool." I mumble as I fasten the strap of my helmet under my chin. "I'll see you next time. Just text me where to meet and what to wear."
Miguel steps closer and I realize what I said.
"For like training, for whatever training we're going to do, no other outfit notes needed." I laugh nervously as I struggle with my bike lock.
"Laney, I'm sorry." He runs his hands through his hair and few strands fall from where his it’s pulled back. "Fuck, I want to, you have no idea, but I'm not good for you."
"Sure, yeah, no problem." I swing my leg over the saddle and sit back.
"You're doing so well. Your results are amazing. I have no doubt you'll get your pro card this season."
"Mhmm, yep. Thanks." I mutter back through my mortification. I whisper a goodbye as I roll away.
The entire ride home I'm conflicted. I am so proud of myself for hitting the 6:44 average mile. And I know I wouldn't have done that without Miguel's guidance.
The pride is quickly checked by the embarrassment of rejection.
I flat out asked him to kiss me.
I’m such an idiot.
I guess I read his signals all wrong.
Each time he’s called me "baby," or given me his touch, plays in a loop as I cross the city blocks back to my apartment.
I can’t believe I got so swept up in him. I’ve been pushing myself so hard for the last two and half years. I’ve given everything I have left to this sport.
