My first story! Hope you like it!
A little bit of a slow burn. For the action, skip towards the end.
I was 18 years old. A lot older than most girls my age were when it first happened to them. I was never interested in any of the boys at my school. I had known most of them since they were young kids picking their noses and complaining about cooties. Besides, I kept busy trying to work a part-time job and make good enough grades to get into my dream university in DC. The tuition wasn't cheap, so I wanted to be prepared if I wasn't going to get a scholarship. Well, I got into the school and got the majority of the funding I had hoped for. So at the end of the summer, my mom and stepdad drove me 6 hours to my new home--a tiny dorm room that I was to share with another girl. I said goodbye to them. No tears were shed. I had been waiting for this day for a long time.
I settled into my apartment and started classes. I decided to spend the first few months studying, and then I'd get some kind of job (maybe a barista or waitress) to earn more money for future living expenses. But the first semester was just for learning and becoming whoever the hell it was I was going to be here.
The first few weeks were filled with parties. I've never really enjoyed typical parties. I preferred small gatherings. I tagged along with my roommate Gia and her friend Brynli for a couple, but after a few of them, I realized that the only way to have fun at these things was to be super wasted. And I hated feeling hungover for classes the next day. So whenever they went to the party, I started to make up excuses so I didn't have to go. And that's how I found myself telling them that I was training for a marathon and needed to go on runs. The perfect excuse. But I hadn't been a runner for years. So I ended up signing up for a gym pass at my local YMCA. Whenever they had a party they wanted me to go to, I went straight to the gym.
I could only run 1 mile at first, but over the next few weeks, I made it to 5 miles. And I didn't need the excuse of a party anymore, I was hooked. I started to go 5 nights a week. This is where he first noticed me. I already knew who he was, but more on that in a minute. I challenged myself to do 10 miles one Friday night. It was the first time I'd ever tried to run that many. I knew I could do 8, but 10 was maybe pushing it. I was on mile 3 when I noticed a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair get onto the treadmill next to me. He began to run and after a few miles, I felt the need to go faster than him.
I guess I'm competitive. I'd always been focused on the numbers. 100% or it felt like I failed type of thing. I know that's not a super healthy mindset, but it's just the way my brain goes sometimes. So I pushed my treadmill speed up a notch until I surpassed his speed. I was starting to sweat and get winded, but I only had 2 and a half miles left. So I pushed through until I noticed him start to speed up. I got faster. It wasn't fair that his legs were longer than mine, but I knew I could hold on just a little longer. I looked over at his treadmill to check his speed, and that's when I noticed him looking right at me. I almost stumbled and rolled my speed down and grabbed onto the sidebar for a second to catch my balance. It was my Intro to Comparative Politics professor. Professor Edwards. He stopped his treadmill and immediately hopped off. "I guess I'll forfeit this race. Are you okay?" I was breathless and nodded my head. "Didn't mean to scare you, it's just I was on the track team when I was growing up and used to race my mate on the tread while training and haven't had anyone push me that hard in a while."
I stopped my treadmill and grabbed the towel hanging on the side to wipe the sweat off my face. "I still have a mile to go if you want to finish the race fair and square," I told him. I was waiting for him to ask if he knew me or to tell me he recognized me from his course. (I mean, there were over a hundred of us in that course and I couldn't even recognize most of my peers.) But he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that I was his student. And a freshman at that. He smiled, and God he looked hot. I knew right then and there, I wanted him. And when I want something, I try my hardest to get it. "Deal." He put his hand out in front of me waiting for me to shake it. I firmly shook it. "Deal." My stomach was filled with butterflies. The adrenaline inside of me was about to burst. I was ready for it. He jumped back onto the treadmill, his ass looking absolutely juicy and tight. I don't even typically admire men's asses. But something about him made his ass look like it was sculpted by Michaelangelo.
"On your mark, get set, GO," I called out. The last stretch. Never mind the fact that I had never run this many miles in a row before. I had to beat him. We both were the fastest people in the gym, making everyone else look like they were working out in slow motion. I hit the 7-minute mark and knew I was so close to beating him. I made my last stretch, and after 9 other miles, it was the fastest I had ever been. 1.00. I slowed down the treadmill to catch my breath. He yelled out, "Fuck I'm getting old," and kept going for another 30 seconds. Finally, he also slowed down, grabbed his water bottle, and drank for like 20 seconds straight. "Well, when shall we schedule our rematch?" He asked me. I grabbed the cleaning spray to clean the fresh sweat off the tread and handed him the bottle. "You say when, and I'll be there."
"God, I haven't had fun like that in ages," he said. We started to walk toward the locker rooms, both of us still catching our breath.
"Same."
"Any chance you'd like to continue that fun?"
"I honestly feel like my legs are going to fall off if I run anymore tonight."
"Not running. Maybe some celebratory drinks on me." He looked at his watch. It was probably already 10 p.m. at this rate, but I technically wasn't doing anything, and God he looked good.
"Yeah, okay." He smirked when I said that, and we both went to take showers and get dressed. I had no clue that I'd be going anywhere besides bed after this, so just had the outfit I had worn to classes that day. A pair of jeans and a black tank top with a grey hoodie to throw over it, which I decided to leave in my gym bag. But it was an improvement to the sweaty mess I was now. I quickly threw my ponytail into a messy bun and ran out the door. He was sitting on a bench nearby on his phone, quite a bit more dressed up than me, but being a political science professor and commentator I assumed his whole wardrobe leaned on the professional side. "Hi!" I said.
He stood up and looked me up and down. "Ready?" I nodded and followed him out the main entrance. He pushed the unlock button and his car lit up further down the street. "I can't wait to show you this amazing bar I found recently," he told me as he opened my car door. I got inside. It smelt expensive. I didn't grow up with any luxury, just necessity. But God, it felt nice. I touched the buttery leather and took a slow deep breath in. He got into the driver's seat and started the vehicle. Growing up, we didn't have a car. I always took the school bus and most of the places we needed to get to were within walking distance or we'd take a bus. But there was something about the warmth of the heater in the car that was so comforting. I almost felt like I was in a movie.
"I'm Wren by the way."
"Amelia."
"Lovely to meet you."
"Same here. So have you lived here long?" I asked him.
"About 10 years. I actually was a student here ages ago. But I moved to London to get my Ph.D. and got tied down there for a bit, but something about American politics just always brings me back here."
"It's incredible how you're right in the middle of it all when you are here. There's nothing like it."
"Are you in politics?" He asked me.
