Cheating on Myself (22 page)

“How do you know Dog Balls?” one of the women he’d left me with asked. When she saw the look on my face, she explained, “His hash name. Is this your first time?”

I nodded, and a sudden chant of “virgin” erupted from the group standing next to us. I blushed just as Joe sauntered back.

“Heel!” he shouted, and Spidey-pants and two guys wearing chunky knit caps lifted their hands in surrender and laughed.

“I’m Slippery Nipple,” a ruddy-faced woman in all purple said. “This is Kotex Moments—” she gestured to a small girlish woman who was probably in her mid-fifties. “That’s Pooper Scoop.” A short guy with glasses (and was that a leash around his neck?) waved. “Just stick with us and we’ll keep you safe. What’s your name gonna be?” Slippery Nipple and Joe were both staring at me expectantly.

“Stella?” I asked, knowing as soon as I said it that this wouldn’t cut it. Joe grinned, obviously aware of my discomfort. He didn’t offer any suggestions and stared as I groped for something clever. “Um…?” I racked my brain for something funny. When I tried to channel Lily, the first thing that popped into my head was, “Pole Dancing Ho?”

A slow smile spread across Slippery Nipple’s face, and Joe beamed at me. I guess I’d figured out the formula.

“I like it,” Joe said, his mouth close to my ear. “Something tells me you just created a whole new you.”

I shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to figure that out on your own. Maybe I am who I say I am.” I grinned back at him. “So when does the running start?” I noticed that the littlest toe on each of my feet had disappeared or frozen.

“Hold your horses, Ho,” Kotex Moments said. “We’ll run in a bit. Get your panties out of a bunch and socialize for a bit. Have fun, have a beer. The hare will get things going in a few.” She wandered off, and Joe and I were left alone together.

“What are you laughing about?” I asked. He was chuckling again. It seemed like he was always laughing. It was actually a nice change from Erik, who didn’t even laugh at old episodes of
Arrested Development
.

“You,” he answered, and put his arm around my shoulders. I could smell that faint cinnamon scent I’d come to associate with him. Deep inside, somewhere, something was stirring. Something much different from what I’d felt with Erik, ever. I wanted so badly to tuck in closer, nuzzle deeper under his arm. I wanted him to take me inside somewhere and wrap his arms around me to heat me up. When I thought about that, it made me think about other things I wanted him to do to warm me up. I wondered if he kissed like Erik? Would sex with Joe feel the same, or would it be something altogether different?

“I need to move around or something,” I said, breaking out of my thoughts. I couldn’t think about this. I had to distract myself. I still had to figure out what I wanted for myself, and fantasizing about sleeping with Joe was not the right way to get my head back on track. “I’m freezing.”

In response, Joe tightened his arm around my shoulder, and pulled me in closer, into a half-hug. I heard a sharp intake of breath, and realized a moment later that it had come from me. I could feel the heat pouring off of his chest, and his hands rubbed against my back to try to keep my blood pumping. He didn’t really need to rub to get my blood pumping—just being close to him was doing the trick. It was the uncertainty of what would happen now, later, the next day that heated me up.

I kept my eyes down, but I could feel his eyes watching me from under his knit cap. It was like a million tiny heaters had been activated under my skin when he looked at me, and when he took one of his hands away I felt the cold settle in again. I wanted him to keep touching me. But then I let myself wonder how many other women were thinking the same things about him at this very moment. Did I care that I was just one woman in a long line of women, waiting for their turn with Banjo Boy?

Suddenly, a tall, broad-shouldered woman wearing jeans announced that we were ready to go. She talked a little bit about the course, and I followed along, hoping Joe would stick with me to keep me on track. I realized, though, that he was here to get a workout, and staying back with me was just going to force him to go slower than he usually would.

Erik and I had done a charity bike ride together, once, and he’d shot ahead within moments of the start, telling me he’d see me at the finish line. I’d biked along at my slow and steady pace alone, and was grateful when a random guy stopped and helped me get my chain back on when it fell off on a long uphill. I’d cursed Erik through the rest of the race.

As we started to run along the hash trail, I realized there were at least a few other people who would probably be going about my pace… that is, walking with a little jogging thrown in to get the blood pumping. Joe stayed by my side, trotting along sideways to watch me as I made my way through the parking lot and into an alley that was the start of our course.

“You can go ahead, you know,” I said. “It looks like there are some other people going at my pace—we can meet up at the beer stops, okay?” I’d learned that we stopped every couple miles along the course to rest, drink a beer, and socialize. Hashing was my kind of exercise.

“I’m not ditching you,” he said, pulling his eyebrows together. He grinned at me and I melted a little again. “We’re here together. This isn’t a competition or anything, so I don’t feel any pressure to bolt out front. Besides, Pooper Scoop makes this weird puffing noise when he runs and I often get stuck next to him through the whole hash. It drives me nuts. I’ll hang back with you, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t want you to hang back just for me,” I said, but I was happy to hear him offer. “I mean, if you don’t want to hear Poopy puffing, I understand, but don’t stay with me just because you feel guilty or anything.”

“It’s not guilt. It’s what I want. I invited you to come along because I want to spend time with you. Not sweat separately, then drive home together. Do I seem like that kind of guy?”

I could feel my breath quickening, and was having a harder time chatting now that we were really moving along the trail. I wondered if Joe was going to keep me talking through the whole run. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it, period. “No, you don’t seem like that kind of guy. It’s just that most people are pretty serious about their exercise.”

“Serious exercise doesn’t sound like much fun,” he said, and started to run backward. “I’m not particularly serious about anything, actually.”

“You must have been serious enough to make it through law school.”

“Yeah, I was plenty serious when I was still in my twenties. Isn’t everyone?”

“Most people I know still are. It seems like seriousness is enhanced with age.”

“Maybe you’re hanging out with the wrong people then.” Joe turned around to run forward again. He was right beside me, and I could hear him breathing softly. I glanced over at him, and watched his arm muscles tensing as he swung his arms forward and back with each step. They looked strong, and I suddenly had an urge to have them around me again. Then I thought about Erik’s arms around me the night before, and that familiar guilty creep crawled across my body. “Was your ex serious?”

It was as if Joe had plucked the thoughts of Erik straight out of my head and introduced him into the conversation. I hoped talking about him would make me think about something other than the previous night’s shower scene. “Yeah,” I said, slowing to a walk. “Very serious.”

“I bet he supported that list of yours,” Joe teased, keeping pace with me. “Because lists are serious business.”

I shot him a look. “He did, except for the whole getting married thing.”

“Do you ever think about what your life might be like if you hadn’t achieved anything on your list?”

“I’d be a high school dropout, living in an ugly apartment,” I said, only partly joking. I felt like my list had kept life on track after mom died. It was the only thing guiding me along when she was no longer around. My dad had been no help at all, and without my own vision, I would have been a complete wreck.

“What if life had taken a turn and suddenly you just rebelled and did something so unlike you that everything you thought you wanted for yourself went puff? Original goals gone, replaced with new surprises.”

“That wouldn’t have happened. I’m a planner. I don’t do surprises.”

Joe stopped suddenly, and I didn’t realize he was no longer beside me until I was a few steps ahead of him. I turned back, staring at him as he just stood there on the trail. His face was flushed, and his hat had come up on one side so his ear was poking out into the chilly air. He smiled, and the goofy look on his face made me giddy. The moment lasted only seconds before he strode forward in two big steps, and leaned over to kiss me. I was caught off guard, and by the time I realized his lips were on mine, they were gone again, leaving my skin cold where his mouth had been only seconds before.

“Did you plan that?” he asked. “Or did it surprise you?”

I started laughing. He looked so self-satisfied, ogling me with an amused grin. Joe was so charming, so adorable—I felt like a teenager, being kissed by someone who had never kissed anyone before. He reached out and held my hand, the warmth of his skin seeping through his glove and mine.

“I’m serious,” he said. “I bet you wouldn’t have picked this as the perfect spot for our first kiss. In fact, I don’t even know if kissing me is on your list of things to accomplish this month. But I don’t care. I decided that kissing you would be fun, right now, and so I did it. Surprise! Now we have to deal with it, and figure out where to go from here. It’s a tangent… what happens when things veer off plan? What will happen next?” He was talking fast, as though he needed to convince me.

That’s when I tipped my body forward and brought my lips close to his again. “This,” I said, watching our hot breath mingle in the cold air around us. I touched my lips to his, letting them linger before I pressed into him. I felt his arms wrap around me as our lips intertwined. “This is what will happen next,” I murmured.

Suddenly I heard hooting behind us, and realized Kotex Moments and a group of walkers had caught up to us along the hash trail. They were clapping and hollering and stomping their feet, and I felt exactly like a kid who’d been caught kissing her brand new boyfriend at a school dance.

My face reddened, and then Joe grabbed me again and tipped me backward and kissed me even more passionately, right there in front of all of them.

“We get it, we get it,” Kotex said, shielding her eyes and moving along. “We’ll see you at the watering hole.” Then the group of walkers moved on by, and we were left alone again.

Joe was still holding one of my hands, and he ran the other up my back. I could scarcely feel his touch through the layers of jackets and shirts I was wearing to stay warm, but the sudden idea of his fingers on my bare skin made me shudder. His hand had crawled to my upper back, and reached around to circle around my neck, pulling me in closer. This time, he moved slowly and put his lips full on mine. I could taste sugar and cinnamon and his smell made me think of Christmas morning. I wanted to curl up with him in a huge armchair and snuggle into his flannel and be wanted.

“You’re beautiful,” he said into my hair.

“Do you say that to all your women?” I asked, and regretted it instantly.

But he smiled and answered, “Only when it’s true.” He took his hand off my neck and pulled back the tiniest bit to say, “Why do you think I’m a womanizer? That is what you think, right?”

“Am I wrong?” I asked, realizing that experience with a lot of women probably made Joe really good in bed. “You are a musician after all.”

“I play for children, Stella,” he said, quirking his eyebrow up like I was a creep. “Not twenty-year-old groupies.”

“Children and their moms,” I argued. “Moms who look at you like a glazed doughnut. I’ve been to one of your shows, remember? I see the way they look at you. You’re a doughnut to these women.”

“I had a doughnut for breakfast this morning,” he said, shifting topic. “From Mel-O-Glaze. You’ve had Mel-O-Glaze before, right?”

“That kiss tasted like doughnuts,” I said, feeling dizzy from thinking about the kiss again. Then I blurted out, “But don’t change the subject. You can’t pretend you haven’t slept with half the women who come see your shows with their kids.”

He tilted his head at me. “You don’t have a lot of faith in faithfulness, girl. Most of those women are married.”

“Does that always matter?” I asked, and started to walk with him along the trail again. I was freezing, just standing there in the middle of the running trail, with no movement or kissing to warm me. “Marriage doesn’t make for happiness, right? I mean, a ton of people who are married would give anything to get a little escape to fantasy with a sexy musician. Someone who takes them out of their life and into another, more exciting existence.” I thought of Cat, and of the man Lily was sleeping with. Neither of them were in healthy, happy relationships. Did I really want a marriage if I was only going to feel ho-hum about life?

“Is that what I am for you? A distraction?” He looked a little hurt, and the smirk had been wiped clean. “An escape?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” I groaned. “I don’t know what this is. Actually, I’m having a hard time understanding what you see in me, anyway. I don’t think it’s unusual for me to wonder if I’m just the next in a long line of flings. Not that that’s bad, necessarily, it’s just that I’m not sure I’m the type of person who’s exactly
good
at flings, given that I’ve been in a relationship for a while now.” I kept babbling as we walked along the path, and I barely noticed when Joe wrapped his fingers through mine. I just carried on. “I mean, Anders and Lily both think I should probably have a few flings, some meaningless sex to try to get over Erik, but I’m not sure I can
do
that, you know?”

Joe began to laugh, and I realized what I’d just said. “Not that I’m thinking about sex,” I said, horrified. I couldn’t stop thinking about sex with Joe, but that didn’t mean I ought to have
announced
it to him.

“I’m thinking about sex,” he said simply, as though it were totally normal to just talk about something as private and personal as making love. “But Stella, I’m a little worried you think I’m only interested in you for that. I think you’re incredibly sexy, yeah, but I’m not intending for this to be a fling. I don’t want a fling. That might sound like a line from reality TV, but the fact is, I’m looking for more than that. You’re funny and smart and you make me feel grounded in a way I haven’t in a long time, if that makes sense. I want to be a better person when I’m with you.”