Runner Girl Ch 05

Amy stood in her underwear at the bench where she and Tracy had agreed to meet, as she scoped the crowd. Thousands of scantily clad people filled Central Park, ready for the "Underwear Run." Her own attire consisted of a sports-bra and racer-type bottoms designed to look like underwear by their markings. Amy had not run in anything so skimpy since her college track team days, but her outfit seemed modest compared to some of the brave souls baring their bods for charity in varying degrees of nudity.

She scanned the crowd again, hoping to see Tracy. It surprised her when her non-runner friend expressed an interest in coming, but she said she and William wanted to join in on the spectacle, even if in the end she just walked and gawked.

From a distance, Amy could see Miles and his wife, who wore a slip over her underwear and looked very classy. Miles looked decent in his underwear, but it had been his personality that attracted Amy anyway. A group of women in push up bras and real panties stood nearby, using feather boas as a passing nod to modesty. Then there were those who let it all hang out, including --

Oh my god! Tracy, William

--

and John!

Tracy hadn't mentioned that John would be coming, yet here they all were, strutting towards her in their underwear.

"Amy!" Tracy yelled as soon as she spotted her. Seeing her friends in their underwear felt bizarre, and while Tracy's outfit didn't surprise Amy, it sure turned a lot of heads. Tracy oozed sexiness without showing more skin than anyone else. She dressed like a sex kitten wearing black and cheetah vintage lingerie reminiscent of an old pin-up girl, accented with

converse tennis shoes

?

"Hi, Tracy!" Amy waved as they made their way over and through the crowd. She said hello to the men, who both hugged her. "You didn't mention you were coming," she said to John, who was resplendent in a pair of boxers, a tie around his neck, and proper running shoes. The boxer shorts and necktie were cut out of the same fabric. When they had spoken on the phone the day before, John hadn't mentioned anything.

"I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it, but I did everything I could to come see you in your... I mean, to raise money for this noble charity," he laughed. Amy blushed and crossed her arms in front of her body.

"Oh my god, you look so cute!" Tracy gushed, "And of course you totally have the bod for this." She stepped behind her and said, "Look, William, she has the Fruit of the Loom on her butt!" Turning Amy around by her shoulders, Tracy gave the guys the opportunity to see the emblem that made her outfit officially "underwear." She must have looked embarrassed because William, whose lean and muscular physique was covered by only a pink speedo, offered a view of his butt in return. A white cotton tail decorated his bottom, amusing Amy that he had both the confidence and the body to pull off such an audacious ensemble. She turned toward John.

"And why are you dressed so formal?" She made a point to keep her eyes fixed on John's face instead of his very distracting body.

John took the tie between his fingers and made a surprised expression, "Amy! I have a professional image to maintain, even on a Saturday. What if I see an important client out here today?"

An announcement came over the loudspeaker that the race would start in sixty seconds. "Do you mind if I run with you?" John asked Amy.

"No, that'd be great," Amy agreed with some trepidation. He looked to be in great shape, but she would be attempting an eight-minute pace and would need to concentrate to maintain her speed while dealing with the crowd.

"Cool, we'll meet you back at this bench when the race is over," Tracy said. "You two will have to wait for us since William agreed to run at my snail pace."

The starting pistol fired and Amy took off. She had not expected to run with John -- or see him in his underwear -- and it took her a few minutes to get into the proper mindset for running. The crowd remained so tight for the first four minutes, that they could only walk at a fast pace and Amy knew she'd have to make up the lost time later. John managed to stay at her side the whole time and once the crowd thinned out a bit, he started talking.

He's not even breathing heavy

, she noticed as she gave one-word answers to his questions. He started talking about his trip to London and how he met with a client who wanted to buy an investment property in the city. All the while he said hello to spectators and joked with other racers along the way. She figured he would run out of air about halfway through the race. Then Amy overheard some guys talking about the fruit on her butt, something about "slipping a banana between..." and suddenly John fell silent. She expected John to drop back, but he stayed next to her as the guys passed, then he started talking again.

They were two miles into the race at 16:10 and Amy tried to speed up a little, but had to weave through the crowd and when she emerged, John appeared at her side again, chatting away as if having the time of his life. "Do you want to pick it up, Amy? You seem to have some kick left in you. Don't hold back on my account."

Amy didn't answer. It took all her concentration to look ahead for gaps in the crowd and weave her way through. They could see the finish line in the distance and she gave it her best sprint. To her surprise, John stayed at her side, even when she crossed the finish line in 23:50, completely out of breath.

"Great job!" John put an arm around her and she glared back at him, not quite ready to speak.

She took some water from a volunteer and kept walking while John remained at her side and went on about how much fun that had been, what an eclectic crowd, and how you really couldn't tell who would be fast by judging their body types.

Amy stopped and put her hands on her hips. "How the hell was that so easy for you? I'm supposed to be the runner!" She finally managed to blurt out.

"It wasn't that easy for me, Amy," John laughed. "I had to work hard to keep up with you, but I know this isn't your best distance. You're much better at longer races and you would kick my butt at anything over six miles."

"How do you know that?"

"I Googled you. I know your race times. Do you really think I would show up for an ego-beating if I knew I couldn't keep up?"

Amy glared at him, still breathing heavy although he seemed to have recovered. "You Googled my race times?"

John nodded, and grinned at her expectantly and bit his lip for a second. He wore that boyish grin, the slightly smartass look, with both hands resting on his hips. His bare and gorgeous hairless torso stirred her so much she had to look away. "Are you mad?" John asked hesitantly.

"Mad? I'm flattered. I'm starting to think you like me." Amy grinned back at him with her hands on her hips mirroring his gesture. She knew she looked good in her underwear too. "I'm just digesting the humbling fact that you are faster than me."

"Nah, I'd place really low in my age and sex division, but you won't. No, you're the runner here, Amy. I am just highly motivated to see you in your underwear."

Amy smiled and gave him a silly high-five, followed by a sweaty half-hug. They decided to wait at the finish line for a while and watch the runners come in and were surprised to see Tracy clock in at 34:00 minutes, obviously working hard, while William looked effortless. "Look at the crowd of gay men chasing that tail," John whispered to Amy and they both laughed that William had in fact drawn a crowd. "And he worried about Tracy attracting too much attention in her underwear," John laughed and they went to join their friends.

"Good job!" Amy hugged Tracy, who looked like she could die on the spot.

"That was so hard! I'm not going to be able to walk for days."

"I've got a car," John said. "You won't need to walk this morning."

"Really? Amy asked in surprise. "You drove here?"

"No, Amy, I was driven here," John admitted. He had decided to be authentic, and the truth was he had a driver close by waiting for them.

* * * * *

Amy tried to concentrate on grading the essay in front of her, but she had to restart four times. The events of the morning had her head spinning, from John unexpectedly showing up at the race, to the fact that he easily kept up with her while running. Then there was the matter of the town car. John said he had it reserved for the day since he planned on showing property that afternoon, but he seemed to be well acquainted with the driver, familiar enough to joke around with him in his boyish way. The casual restaurant surprised her too, a homey place called "Jackson Hole" right in Eastside Manhattan, which made no sense. John seemed incredibly warm and genuine at breakfast, and Tracy and William were extremely cute together. Amy felt much more comfortable around them this time and attributed it to the relaxed atmosphere combined with her endorphin-induced runner's high.

The driver brought Amy to her apartment and John stepped out of the car for a hug and to say that he looked forward to doing a photoshoot with "Runner Girl." Then the three drove off to their respective busy days while Amy faced the daunting task of grading essays.

Now, post-race and showered, Amy had forty essays to get through if she was going to go on a hike with John the next day, but she couldn't seem to finish even one of them. She re-started the same paragraph for the third time when her phone buzzed with a text. She smiled seeing a new photo from John, a puddle in the street that reflected puffy clouds on a blue sky and a bird flying by. He managed to capture a nature photo on a crowded Manhattan street. This one came with a text, "Second prettiest thing I've seen today" and Amy leaned back on her bed with a smile fixed on her face.

She decided to take a break on her bed and elevate her legs. Lounging on top of the down comforter, she closed her eyes. Images of underwear-clad runners flashed through her memory, but the one that appeared over and over again was the image of a shirtless John, hands on his hips, biting his lip to suppress a grin.

Plaid boxers and a matching tie

, she grinned to herself and sighed. Then she rolled over and opened her drawer beside the bed to take out her vibrator. Freddy stretched, yawned, and kept his eyes open. "What? Don't judge me," she said to her grey cat. "He has the 'V,' that magnificent V!" She gestured with her hands, picturing the masculine line of defined muscle that descended from John's hips to below the waistband of his boxers. But Freddy didn't judge. He thought what he heard was merely another cat purring, the sound of blessed contentedness.

* * * * *

John pulled up in front of Amy's apartment at 7:00 a.m, as promised, with a cup of coffee waiting for her in the cupholder. He sent a text letting her know he was double-parked, and in seconds she came out the door in shorts and a pullover jacket with a small hydration pack slung over one shoulder.

"You have your own car and a driver?"

John laughed. He expected to have this conversation and already made up his mind to be frank. "I use a driver and a town car when showing property, but I usually drive the Range Rover myself when I want to get out of the city."

"I could have picked a farther destination than Breakneck Ridge," Amy smiled. "I didn't realize we'd be driving. Last time I took the metro."

"Yeah, well, we can get to the back trailhead this time, and I know where we can get some amazing scenery for your blog."

"Thanks, John. I really appreciate you doing this."

"You don't need to thank me. You've combined two of my favorite pastimes and I am glad for the opportunity to get the camera out again."

Amy wondered if he really considered hiking a favorite pastime, while she focused on getting cream into the coffee he'd brought without spilling anything on the very luxurious console. They spent the drive talking about their families and where they grew up and the hour passed quickly. When they pulled into the parking lot, they saw only one car. "It's a lot less crowded on this side. If we want to get some photos on the rocky crag portion, we should do that first, or else I'll have to spend a lot of time photoshopping people out. The first train doesn't get here for a while."

"A trailhead this close to Manhattan could never be desolate. I'm always surprised when I find solitude in or around the city."

"Yes, but sometimes solitude is a state of mind. Ready?" He slung the backpack with camera gear over his shoulder.

"Yeah, sure, but what did you mean? Are you talking about the 'lonely in a crowd' feeling?"

"I know that feeling, but I was thinking about how I feel when I am alone in my thoughts, but not necessarily lonely. Like when I go out on the roof of a high-rise and look up at the stars. Sure, I'm in close proximity to about a million people, but I'm the only one standing on that particular rooftop looking at the stars from that particular perspective. Hey, you know what I like most about my job?"

"The money?" Amy teased, being cheeky.

"No, actually that is a byproduct of liking the job. Money-chasers don't do what I do."

"Well, what do you do exactly? Sell commercial real estate, right?"

"God, you've made me sound horribly boring," John answered. They were hiking up a narrow trail and he really enjoyed the view of Amy hiking uphill directly in front of him, giving a close perspective of her muscled up little bottom. "No, Ms. Runner-Girl, I love finding treasure. I love finding old industrial buildings and seeing the potential to make them into something new, while preserving as much of the history as possible. I work with investors with similar visions, those who don't want to tear them apart and replace them with something new and shiny. I appreciate those who see the potential in what is already there."

Amy turned around and smiled, "I knew that. 'Finding an agate among the stones.' You aren't the only one who knows how to use Google, you know."

John's face registered surprise, "My, my, Miss Amy McGuinness. I am flattered that you found me so interesting. That is a pretty lengthy article you're quoting from."

"Yes, it is. And Tracy told me you helped William get a unit in that building in Harlem." Amy had returned to face forward and continue hiking. "But I am referring to the part about you having a gift for finding gems. Was that story about the agates true or embellished?"

"It's true. It drove my sisters crazy that I always found agates among the rocks every time we visited Lake Superior. They even accused me of planting them there just to infuriate them," he laughed. "But I do have a gift for spotting them. The same thing applies to my ability to see a good photo, or a smart investment property for that matter."

Amy stopped and turned around on the trail, "What about people? Does your gift for finding agates among the stones apply to humans?"

John laughed, "Well... I guess being single at thirty-four means that either the skill doesn't transfer to people, or that I just haven't tried yet."

"Or maybe it comes so easy to you that agates are no longer considered precious?" Amy wore a teasing smirk.

The slope of the trail put them face to face. "Now why would you say that?"

"Oh, come on, John. Isn't it obvious? You're good looking and successful and very charming. The only reason you're single is because you choose to be."

"Is that right, Ms. Know-It-All?" He fought the urge to touch her as she stood only inches away from his face. "And how is it that you've managed to stay single all the way up to twenty-seven?"

"Oh, I haven't always been single. You just caught me at a good time." And with that Amy turned and sprinted ten feet ahead, then turned and said, "When are you going to take that camera out? You could've gotten some amazing photos already!"

"Yeah, I could have, but I thought I'd get in trouble for shooting a bunch of pictures of your adorable ass going up the trail."

"As long as they are flattering, I wouldn't mind," Amy turned around and winked at him. John took her offer seriously and brought out his camera. He snapped a few photos from behind, but they mostly captured the flexing of her calf muscles. Her legs in action had him mesmerized.

"Hey, Amy, this is a great background right here. Why don't you go up ahead and then run downhill towards me?"

"Okay," she agreed and took her pack off and set it on a rock and took off running.

John crouched down off to the side of the trail and readied his camera, then began shooting as Amy ran down the trail. She passed him then turned and asked, "Do you think you got any good ones?"

"I think so, but can you do it again?"

"Of course."

"But how about without your jacket?"

Amy smiled at him, unzipped her jacket and pulled it over her head revealing a sports bra underneath. She tossed her jacket to him with a devilish grin, then turned and bounded up the hill like a mountain goat.

He shot several more photos as she ran past him, her legs taut with sinewy muscles as she maneuvered her way down a rocky trail. "How's that?" she asked when she reached him again.

"Oh, I know I got some good shots for sure," he smiled at Amy and handed her the pack and jacket. "Shall we?" He gestured up the hill. She stood with her hands on her hips grinning and breathing heavily. Her chest had a sprinkling of little beads of sweat forming in her cleavage, so he brought the camera back up to his eye and snapped a photo.

She swatted his arm, "Who said you could take a photo of my boobs!"

"You can't interfere with an artist practicing his craft. Besides, it was beads of sweat, not boobs I was shooting."

"Weirdo," she said, but she kept grinning. In fact, he hadn't yet seen her smile this much. She seemed completely relaxed and playful in this environment, and further demonstrated her playful attitude by challenging him to keep up as she sprinted up the rest of the hill.

"Oh, wow, look at that," she said as they reached the summit. The Hudson Valley stretched out in front of them and John took out his tripod. "Here?" she asked. "I'm not sure we can get good running shots here. There isn't a long enough stretch of trail."

"I want to get a shot of you looking out at the valley like that. If you don't want to use it for your blog, that's okay, but standing in the morning sun like that, with the sweat on your upper lip..." John started taking photos again while Amy trained her gaze on the valley below.

"I didn't know you had a sweat fetish."

"I didn't either," John laughed. "It looks good on you."

Amy turned and grinned and he snapped a photo. The moment he took it he knew that it would be his favorite. Her natural behavior in front of the camera made her easy to work with. Or perhaps she was getting comfortable around him, a thought which made him smile in return.

"Hey, does that camera have a timer?"

"Of course it does, why?"

"I'd like you to be in some of the pictures."

He laughed, "Am I going to be on your blog?"

"Maybe," Amy answered with a coy grin. "But of course you have control over what photos you give me."

"Oh, I'd love to be featured on 'Runner Girl.'"

"Who said anything about 'featured'? I'll just pretend you're some hot guy I met on the trail." She teased.

John laughed, and said, "Why do I get the feeling that it isn't just young girls reading your blog?"

"Busted!" Amy laughed and actually blushed. "Okay, a few friends from back home might be interested in who I'm hanging out with. Maybe a scorned lover or two. Or three." Amy laughed.

"Oh really? Then let's give them something to speculate about, shall we?" John finished setting up the shot then took his shirt off, causing Amy to gasp. "It didn't seem fair that you're topless and I'm all covered up."