Phil focused on his breathing and the reliable "thud, thud, thud" of his shoes on the tarmac. He welcomed the whip of the wind on his cheeks, keeping him cool. With a flash of blonde, Amy pulled ahead of him slightly, ponytail swinging. He let her take the lead a while.
Phil was tall and lean, perfectly built for running and far faster than Amy but he liked to let her overtake him from time to time for a number of reasons.
For the most part it was genuine encouragement. He was quietly proud of her. Amy had had a tough childhood. The two had met in school as teenagers, and had grown apart as they matured at different rates. After a chance encounter on a bus one night, they had entered a race together and had been running partners for the past two years. She had made a striking recovery from an eating disorder and when he looked at her now, struggling but always determined, she seemed worlds away from the pallid waif, reeking of vomit, that he had known in his youth. She had grown strong, her skin was bright and tanned. Her hair and nails were no longer brittle and dull and behind her eyes there was now a spark of determination. He wanted her to feel good, because she deserved to. He didn't mind the view from behind her, either.
He was attracted to her, naturally. She was a very striking girl and there was no avoiding it. However, he was content to let it be. She was his partner first and foremost, and although he might have been faster alone, he doubted he would have gone out so regularly at all without her holding him accountable. it would be a shame to risk something so symbiotic.
He was content to simply watch her, even as she sweated and spat into the hedge, and to listen to her laboured breaths on uphill stretches with a little imagination. Somehow the indignity of exercise is intimate, especially when shared. She drew him to her, even at her least beautiful.
They alternated routes, sometimes finishing at her house, sometimes at his, and took turns providing water and rest. Today, it was Phil's turn. They rounded the corner onto his road and he overtook her for the final stretch. She sped up to match him but he reached the door first. She burst into the porch behind him, kicking her shoes off and bending over, panting with exertion. Her cheeks glowed and a strand of hair clung to her forehead with glistening sweat. She caught her breath and smiled at him. Her smile was warm and wide, and made her eyes wrinkle kindly. He passed her one of the prepared water bottles from the fridge and they threw themselves down at the kitchen table, stretching their tired limbs.
Neither of them spoke for a while, but silently gulped down their water and got their breath back.
She smiled at him again and eventually said "I think I pushed a little too far at the end. I'm exhausted!"
"Me too," he only half lied. He was pretty tired, after all.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes, breathing steadily.
Phil took the first shower, threw on an old t-shirt and some shorts and tossed a towel at Amy on his way to the fridge. She disappeared into the bathroom and as Phil sat cradling a protein shake he let his mind wander to how she must look, water flowing down her naked back and collecting in drops on her capped shoulders. He pictured racing drops down her tummy, like he had as a child on the car windows on long trips. He imagined collecting the winner with his tongue, and tracing the contours of her abdomen down - at this point he had to pause to conceal his erection.
She stepped out, wrapped in a towel, her hair wet on her shoulders. She had left her rucksack in the hall with her fresh clothes, but she didn't seem phased by his seeing her like this. After all, hadn't they grown up together? He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as she raided his fridge and he eyed her up and down while her back was turned. Her forearms and upper back were covered in downy-soft, golden hair from when her body couldn't keep itself warm. It was prominent now, with the sudden cold air on her wet skin raising goosebumps. He quietly admired how it formed a sort of halo in the light. The instinct to rest his cheek on the back of her neck was overwhelming.
She turned around and caught him looking. For a moment she looked startled, then she cracked a smile and her cheeks flushed rosy. She shut the fridge door and crossed the room to stand in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't think of anything, so he just stared stupidly.
"Phil Madison, what ARE you staring at?" she giggled, her beaming smile was now a shy smirk. At least she didn't seem angry, or upset.
"I just.." he began, and trailed off as her gaze landed on the tent in his shorts. Her eyes widened, then narrowed and met his once again. She placed a hand under his chin, tilting his head up towards her and ran her thumb slowly along his bottom lip. Hunger burned in his eyes and he stood up abruptly, pulling her in for a kiss.
Their lips met once, softly, and pulled apart, eyes locked. Then they kissed again, feverishly, deeply, palpable heat between their bodies.
