Stupid Girl
Page 30
Brax’s tongue tasted and licked and suckled as he kissed the sensitive flesh of my br**sts that rose above the lace of my bra. He kissed the hollow of my throat, settled his lips over my pulse that was rapid-fire fast. As fast as my breath. He moved to my ear. “As much as I’ve fantasized seeing you in nothing but those boots, they’re in the way,” he whispered. “Hold still.”
Words would not push past my vocal cords, so I just waited and watched as Brax sat up, bent over at the waist, and in seconds I heard his heavy boots hit the floor. He twisted, grabbed first one foot, relieved it of my boot and sock, then the other, and he moved back up to my waist. “Raise up.” I did, and he eased my jeans over my hips, tossing them to the floor and leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties. He flung his big body next to mine, and the bed dipped with his weight and I bounced beside him. I couldn’t help but giggle.
“Oh, you finding something funny with my moves, Sunshine?” he teased, and his mouth and fingers dug into my sides, my belly, my neck, and I squealed as he tickled me.
“Brax! No! Stop it! Please!” My giggles were unstoppable. “Please! I love. Your moves. Not. Funny.” I gasped.
He threw one jean-clad leg over both of mine, pinning me as he laid half on top of me, and looked down. His longish curls twisted messy and perfect over his forehead, his teeth gleaming white as he smiled a long, silky lazy smile that was hidden mostly in shadows.
I lifted my fingertips to his chest, caressed his lip that carried a scar just like mine, and it was then my gaze landed on my ring. It had meant something to me, and had eased my pain in more ways than one. But I no longer needed it. I eased it off, Brax’s eyes watching closely, and I set it on my nightstand. Then I slipped my hands round his neck. When I tugged, ever so gently, Brax’s gaze went from jovial and mischievous to stormy. “Tell me what you want, Gracie.”
My smile was sincere, my voice a whisper and I was scared and brave at once. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Brax,” I confessed. “But I know I want your mouth on mine. Your tongue tasting me. And your hands on my body.” His eyes turned to liquid metal in the hazy shadows. “I want to feel you so bad I actually ache.”
With a groan he crushed his mouth to mine, rolled over and pulled me on top of him. While his tongue wrecked havoc, his teeth nipped, and he sucked my bottom lip. His hands gripped my backside, palming my hips, and the thick bulge grinding against the juncture of my thighs shocked me and made the ache turn to a wicked burn beneath my panties. I didn’t know what I was doing; I knew what I wanted, though. And I knew it was right. I pushed up then, leaving Brax lying on his back and staring up at me in what looked like wonder, and I slid off his h*ps and moved my fingers over the buttons of his fly. It took me a minute but I worked them all loose, and wordlessly I pulled them off his long, lean legs. He sat up then, and we were face to face on my bed, and he reached for my braid, slid the elastic off the end and threaded his fingers through my hair until it fell long and loose down my back. Over and over, he let it slide between his fingers. Then reached behind me, unclasped my bra, and pushed the thin straps off my shoulders, freeing my breasts.
“Christ Jesus, Gracie,” his raspy voice spoke quietly, somewhat pained. “You’re so f**king beautiful it hurts.”
His harsh confession almost made the air jolt to a stop. Breathing became impossible; only I knew we were too far apart. Sliding one thigh, then the other over his lap, I straddled him, his erection hard and pressing against me in the most intimate of ways yet … not quite there. Not satisfied, not close enough. His hands fell over my breasts, and with my hands I held his face. “So are you.” Perched high enough that I had to look down at him, I pushed his hair back with one hand, fingering the puckered scar at his cheekbone, then I pressed my mouth to his in a feathery, timid kiss. Unsure. Completely sure. “I’ve never wanted something so bad in my life, as I want you.”
With a guttural groan he palmed the back of my head and again crushed our mouths together in a primal kiss; he devoured me, suckled my lip, tasted my scar with his tongue, and his hands left nothing untouched. He turned me onto my back, followed me down, and while driving me insane with his teeth nipping at my lips, his other hand edged my panties down, and then his fingers were inside of me and I sucked in a surprised breath. Brax drew it in, swallowed it, and kissed me deeper. His fingers moved, touching places I never knew existed, and the sensation nearly brought a yell from my throat. I writhed against his hand, trying to close in, wanting something deeper, something more. My own fingers pushed at the boxer briefs he wore; snug over his muscular buttocks. I couldn’t reach, couldn’t get them down far enough, and Brax turned me loose just long enough to help me. He laid atop me, with nothing but skin touching skin, his tongue tangling with mine, his hands everywhere. Still I burned, I ached, and I arched against him, seeking relief. My mind wasn’t thinking any longer; it just reacted, and my hand reached between our bodies until my palm sought the velvety steel of his erection. I wrapped my fingers over it, amazed, frightened, and the burn caught fire. Brax let out a groan that sounded as tortured as how I felt.
Then his upper body disappeared over the edge of the bed, and when he sat up I knew he’d retrieved a condom from the wallet in his jeans. He ripped the package off with his teeth, removed the thing, and his hand disappeared into the shadows as he slid it on. He returned to me, his body over mine, his lips settling against my lips in a gentle, thorough kiss. “Are you sure you want this, Gracie?” he whispered against me.
“I want you,” I answered. And I knew I did.
Braced above me on his elbows, he nudged my thighs open with one knee then entered part of the way. I sucked in a breath and dug my fingers into Brax’s back, my heart racing, my breath painful as it lodged in my lungs. He stilled then, waiting, kissing my mouth in a slow, erotic dance that intensified the longing and ache between my thighs. His mouth moved to my ear as he gently began to rock.
“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Gracie Beaumont,” he whispered gruffly. “Dreamed it even. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
The tight fit of Brax inside of me eased as he moved, until he filled me, and it was delicious and addictive. His gaze never left mine as he rocked slow at first, then faster, and I moved with him, my legs wrapping around his waist and my fingers digging into his shoulders as I held on. His mouth found mine, then he tore it away with a groan and buried his face in my neck.
A slow, gradual sensation began to build at my core, slowly emerging from a place so hidden within me I didn’t know it even existed. The more Brax moved, the more intensified it became until he thrust again, sending a delicious surge through me. “Brax,” I cried, and I dug my fingers into his skin. Like a mirror shattering from the sun behind my eyelids, I exploded, gasped and writhed with the rhythm as the waves fell over and over and over my head. Brax’s groans rumbled against my neck, his fingers dug not painfully into my hips, revealing his own release, and my mind scrambled to make sense of anything, everything. He slowed, grew still, burrowed his mouth into the crook of my neck and tried to rein in his ragged breath. Contentment and wonder flooded me; everything about him made my insides sing, and a smile settled over my mouth in the dark.
Brax found my lips with his and kissed me with a gentleness that belied the fury he’d grown up with, and he held my entire body with his; legs entwined. At last, he pressed his lips to my temple, kissing me tenderly, and then he looked down at me, and his eyes shined in a way I hadn’t noticed before. He said only one word, and that word made me shiver.
“Mine.”
He dragged his lips over mine and it was a possessive kiss, and I found I liked that. I breathed him in. “Mine, too,” I whispered.
Brax rolled off and pulled me with him, snugging my body tightly against his; he held me close within the muscles of his arms, and my cheek rested against his stone-like chest. I splayed my fingers over his stomach, tracing the defined cuts of muscle, the sharp V’s at his hips. As my eyes closed, and I reveled in his warmth, I decided then I could stay just like this for the rest of my life. Right here, in my bed, wrapped in nothing but Brax. On a contented sigh, I drifted off into a deep, fulfilled slumber.
20. Broken
My eyes fluttered open, and I blinked through the early morning gray haze of light filtering my room. Rain fell, a constant fall of dreary outside my window. A draft moved over me, and I glanced down at my bare shoulders. I was na**d, beneath my sheets. Brax and I had made love. My hand reached for him but only found a cold, empty spot beside me.
I jolted up, clutching the sheet over my br**sts as I scanned the shadowy corners of my silent dorm room. “Brax?”
No answer.
After quickly checking my cell phone and finding no missed calls or texts, my gaze fell on his duffle bag, sitting zipped against the far wall. Maybe he went out for breakfast? He hadn’t mentioned early baseball practice, and he knew Steven and I had traded shifts and I had off today. Like me, he usually went for a morning run. But in the rain? And wouldn’t he have awakened me? Something nagged at me, though, bit into me, deep down. Disappointment? That had to be it. I’d assumed I would wake up tangled in Brax’s strong arms and legs. Where had he gone?
Memories of our lovemaking crashed over me; I recalled every single touch, every single kiss, and how his lips caressed me. Details scorched into my brain for eternity. A smile turned my mouth up, and I rose, pulling the sheet with me and wrapping it around my body as I made my way to the shower. Maybe he went out for coffee, and I’d been in such a dreamy state of contentment I hadn’t heard him leave. Tilting my head back, the steamy water poured over my face, and I noticed a delicious burn between my thighs. Another smile tugged at me as I remembered what caused it. Lord, so that’s what the fuss was all about.
With my wet hair wrapped in a towel, I tugged on the jeans Brax had expertly flung to the floor, chose a clean tank top out of my drawer and pulled it over my head. Rubbing my wet hair vigorously in the towel, I let my unruly locks hang long and limp to air dry as I pulled my physics book out and laid on my stomach across my bed to study for the mammoth exam I had coming up on Monday. Time ticked by; my concentration was next to nothing. An hour. An hour and a half passed and no word from Brax.
Finding myself re-reading the same pages twice, three times, I flung the book aside and grabbed my cell phone. After trying to reason with myself about why not to sound pathetic and text Brax, I lost the battle and sent him a short message.
Me: Hey, Boston, you there?
I waited, staring at the tiny screen on my unfashionable old flip phone, but after fifteen minutes with no response from Brax, I decided that to sit around the dorm room would do nothing except allow my mind to wander. And wonder. So I gathered my physics book, my pack, and headed to the library to study. Wherever Brax was and whatever he was tied up doing, he’d surely text me when he finished. Meanwhile, I had to study. No choice.
The campus was as still as the air when I cut across the lawn and started toward the massive three story brick Winston library. I’d slipped on a long sleeved shirt that snapped down the front, along with a hoodie to keep away the light rain still falling. Not exactly chilly, but more so than usual, especially with the dampness. I couldn’t help but dart my gaze all over as I walked, looking for Brax. Where in the world was he? After the night we’d shared it seemed so unlike him to just … leave me alone. It was Saturday. Where could he have gone?
I reached the library and climbed the steps, and pushed into the cool interior, peeling off my hoodie as I did so. Smiling at one of the librarians I’d come to recognize as she busied herself behind the horseshoe entry desk, I hurried past her and made my way to a quiet back corner table in the astronomy section, where I hung my jacket on the back of a chair and sat alone. Fishing my text from my pack, I opened it up, took a deep breath, checked my phone. No message. I turned the volume off, leaving it on vibrate. No getting around it, Brax was heavy on my mind, and despite how whole he’d made me feel the night before, doubt began worming its way into my brain. I closed my eyes briefly, forcing out negative thoughts before they had a chance to latch on. I was being ridiculous. Something came up, he didn’t want to wake me, and he left quietly. Whatever had kept him, he’d been unable to use his phone. Could be any number of things, I reasoned. Physics, Beaumont. Big test coming up. With a frustrated silent swear at my new distraction, I dug into my studies.
Physics held my attention for a while; at least until nearly noon. One of my strong subjects, I made sure I covered all the notes and pages I’d flagged to study. But I’d had enough, and after I’d lifted my phone a hundred times, just to make sure I hadn’t missed a quiet vibrating message from Brax, I packed my stuff up and left.
Now I was getting worried. A sick feeling gnawed at my insides as I crossed the campus. Still overcast and gray out, the rain had slowed to a barely-there drizzle when I entered my dorm. The moment my eyes rested on my bed, visions of Brax and I from the night before flooded me. But he’d been gone by morning, and I hadn’t heard from him since. I dropped my pack on the floor, next to his duffle, then plopped down on my bed. I stared at my hands, recalling how I’d touched him, how he’d felt against my skin.
I was driving myself nuts.
Deciding I couldn’t just sit around the dorm and pace, I yanked off my jeans and boots, trading them for running shorts and a tee shirt. The common room was empty, save for one girl who sat reading a novel on the sofa, and I pushed out of the door and started up the sidewalk at a fast pace. Fast, in hopes of out-running the fear now digging at me. The drizzle falling didn’t deter me; it actually kept my mind occupied as I ran along Main Street, circling the observatory, and skirting the park. It felt good to make my muscles burn, so I kept going, until I found myself at the sports complex. I wasn’t surprised to find it desolate; it was a rainy, dreary, Saturday afternoon. People were holed up in their apartments, their dorms, their houses. Watching TV. Studying. Painting their nails. Gearing up for Saturday night parties. So where was he?
Words would not push past my vocal cords, so I just waited and watched as Brax sat up, bent over at the waist, and in seconds I heard his heavy boots hit the floor. He twisted, grabbed first one foot, relieved it of my boot and sock, then the other, and he moved back up to my waist. “Raise up.” I did, and he eased my jeans over my hips, tossing them to the floor and leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties. He flung his big body next to mine, and the bed dipped with his weight and I bounced beside him. I couldn’t help but giggle.
“Oh, you finding something funny with my moves, Sunshine?” he teased, and his mouth and fingers dug into my sides, my belly, my neck, and I squealed as he tickled me.
“Brax! No! Stop it! Please!” My giggles were unstoppable. “Please! I love. Your moves. Not. Funny.” I gasped.
He threw one jean-clad leg over both of mine, pinning me as he laid half on top of me, and looked down. His longish curls twisted messy and perfect over his forehead, his teeth gleaming white as he smiled a long, silky lazy smile that was hidden mostly in shadows.
I lifted my fingertips to his chest, caressed his lip that carried a scar just like mine, and it was then my gaze landed on my ring. It had meant something to me, and had eased my pain in more ways than one. But I no longer needed it. I eased it off, Brax’s eyes watching closely, and I set it on my nightstand. Then I slipped my hands round his neck. When I tugged, ever so gently, Brax’s gaze went from jovial and mischievous to stormy. “Tell me what you want, Gracie.”
My smile was sincere, my voice a whisper and I was scared and brave at once. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Brax,” I confessed. “But I know I want your mouth on mine. Your tongue tasting me. And your hands on my body.” His eyes turned to liquid metal in the hazy shadows. “I want to feel you so bad I actually ache.”
With a groan he crushed his mouth to mine, rolled over and pulled me on top of him. While his tongue wrecked havoc, his teeth nipped, and he sucked my bottom lip. His hands gripped my backside, palming my hips, and the thick bulge grinding against the juncture of my thighs shocked me and made the ache turn to a wicked burn beneath my panties. I didn’t know what I was doing; I knew what I wanted, though. And I knew it was right. I pushed up then, leaving Brax lying on his back and staring up at me in what looked like wonder, and I slid off his h*ps and moved my fingers over the buttons of his fly. It took me a minute but I worked them all loose, and wordlessly I pulled them off his long, lean legs. He sat up then, and we were face to face on my bed, and he reached for my braid, slid the elastic off the end and threaded his fingers through my hair until it fell long and loose down my back. Over and over, he let it slide between his fingers. Then reached behind me, unclasped my bra, and pushed the thin straps off my shoulders, freeing my breasts.
“Christ Jesus, Gracie,” his raspy voice spoke quietly, somewhat pained. “You’re so f**king beautiful it hurts.”
His harsh confession almost made the air jolt to a stop. Breathing became impossible; only I knew we were too far apart. Sliding one thigh, then the other over his lap, I straddled him, his erection hard and pressing against me in the most intimate of ways yet … not quite there. Not satisfied, not close enough. His hands fell over my breasts, and with my hands I held his face. “So are you.” Perched high enough that I had to look down at him, I pushed his hair back with one hand, fingering the puckered scar at his cheekbone, then I pressed my mouth to his in a feathery, timid kiss. Unsure. Completely sure. “I’ve never wanted something so bad in my life, as I want you.”
With a guttural groan he palmed the back of my head and again crushed our mouths together in a primal kiss; he devoured me, suckled my lip, tasted my scar with his tongue, and his hands left nothing untouched. He turned me onto my back, followed me down, and while driving me insane with his teeth nipping at my lips, his other hand edged my panties down, and then his fingers were inside of me and I sucked in a surprised breath. Brax drew it in, swallowed it, and kissed me deeper. His fingers moved, touching places I never knew existed, and the sensation nearly brought a yell from my throat. I writhed against his hand, trying to close in, wanting something deeper, something more. My own fingers pushed at the boxer briefs he wore; snug over his muscular buttocks. I couldn’t reach, couldn’t get them down far enough, and Brax turned me loose just long enough to help me. He laid atop me, with nothing but skin touching skin, his tongue tangling with mine, his hands everywhere. Still I burned, I ached, and I arched against him, seeking relief. My mind wasn’t thinking any longer; it just reacted, and my hand reached between our bodies until my palm sought the velvety steel of his erection. I wrapped my fingers over it, amazed, frightened, and the burn caught fire. Brax let out a groan that sounded as tortured as how I felt.
Then his upper body disappeared over the edge of the bed, and when he sat up I knew he’d retrieved a condom from the wallet in his jeans. He ripped the package off with his teeth, removed the thing, and his hand disappeared into the shadows as he slid it on. He returned to me, his body over mine, his lips settling against my lips in a gentle, thorough kiss. “Are you sure you want this, Gracie?” he whispered against me.
“I want you,” I answered. And I knew I did.
Braced above me on his elbows, he nudged my thighs open with one knee then entered part of the way. I sucked in a breath and dug my fingers into Brax’s back, my heart racing, my breath painful as it lodged in my lungs. He stilled then, waiting, kissing my mouth in a slow, erotic dance that intensified the longing and ache between my thighs. His mouth moved to my ear as he gently began to rock.
“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Gracie Beaumont,” he whispered gruffly. “Dreamed it even. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
The tight fit of Brax inside of me eased as he moved, until he filled me, and it was delicious and addictive. His gaze never left mine as he rocked slow at first, then faster, and I moved with him, my legs wrapping around his waist and my fingers digging into his shoulders as I held on. His mouth found mine, then he tore it away with a groan and buried his face in my neck.
A slow, gradual sensation began to build at my core, slowly emerging from a place so hidden within me I didn’t know it even existed. The more Brax moved, the more intensified it became until he thrust again, sending a delicious surge through me. “Brax,” I cried, and I dug my fingers into his skin. Like a mirror shattering from the sun behind my eyelids, I exploded, gasped and writhed with the rhythm as the waves fell over and over and over my head. Brax’s groans rumbled against my neck, his fingers dug not painfully into my hips, revealing his own release, and my mind scrambled to make sense of anything, everything. He slowed, grew still, burrowed his mouth into the crook of my neck and tried to rein in his ragged breath. Contentment and wonder flooded me; everything about him made my insides sing, and a smile settled over my mouth in the dark.
Brax found my lips with his and kissed me with a gentleness that belied the fury he’d grown up with, and he held my entire body with his; legs entwined. At last, he pressed his lips to my temple, kissing me tenderly, and then he looked down at me, and his eyes shined in a way I hadn’t noticed before. He said only one word, and that word made me shiver.
“Mine.”
He dragged his lips over mine and it was a possessive kiss, and I found I liked that. I breathed him in. “Mine, too,” I whispered.
Brax rolled off and pulled me with him, snugging my body tightly against his; he held me close within the muscles of his arms, and my cheek rested against his stone-like chest. I splayed my fingers over his stomach, tracing the defined cuts of muscle, the sharp V’s at his hips. As my eyes closed, and I reveled in his warmth, I decided then I could stay just like this for the rest of my life. Right here, in my bed, wrapped in nothing but Brax. On a contented sigh, I drifted off into a deep, fulfilled slumber.
20. Broken
My eyes fluttered open, and I blinked through the early morning gray haze of light filtering my room. Rain fell, a constant fall of dreary outside my window. A draft moved over me, and I glanced down at my bare shoulders. I was na**d, beneath my sheets. Brax and I had made love. My hand reached for him but only found a cold, empty spot beside me.
I jolted up, clutching the sheet over my br**sts as I scanned the shadowy corners of my silent dorm room. “Brax?”
No answer.
After quickly checking my cell phone and finding no missed calls or texts, my gaze fell on his duffle bag, sitting zipped against the far wall. Maybe he went out for breakfast? He hadn’t mentioned early baseball practice, and he knew Steven and I had traded shifts and I had off today. Like me, he usually went for a morning run. But in the rain? And wouldn’t he have awakened me? Something nagged at me, though, bit into me, deep down. Disappointment? That had to be it. I’d assumed I would wake up tangled in Brax’s strong arms and legs. Where had he gone?
Memories of our lovemaking crashed over me; I recalled every single touch, every single kiss, and how his lips caressed me. Details scorched into my brain for eternity. A smile turned my mouth up, and I rose, pulling the sheet with me and wrapping it around my body as I made my way to the shower. Maybe he went out for coffee, and I’d been in such a dreamy state of contentment I hadn’t heard him leave. Tilting my head back, the steamy water poured over my face, and I noticed a delicious burn between my thighs. Another smile tugged at me as I remembered what caused it. Lord, so that’s what the fuss was all about.
With my wet hair wrapped in a towel, I tugged on the jeans Brax had expertly flung to the floor, chose a clean tank top out of my drawer and pulled it over my head. Rubbing my wet hair vigorously in the towel, I let my unruly locks hang long and limp to air dry as I pulled my physics book out and laid on my stomach across my bed to study for the mammoth exam I had coming up on Monday. Time ticked by; my concentration was next to nothing. An hour. An hour and a half passed and no word from Brax.
Finding myself re-reading the same pages twice, three times, I flung the book aside and grabbed my cell phone. After trying to reason with myself about why not to sound pathetic and text Brax, I lost the battle and sent him a short message.
Me: Hey, Boston, you there?
I waited, staring at the tiny screen on my unfashionable old flip phone, but after fifteen minutes with no response from Brax, I decided that to sit around the dorm room would do nothing except allow my mind to wander. And wonder. So I gathered my physics book, my pack, and headed to the library to study. Wherever Brax was and whatever he was tied up doing, he’d surely text me when he finished. Meanwhile, I had to study. No choice.
The campus was as still as the air when I cut across the lawn and started toward the massive three story brick Winston library. I’d slipped on a long sleeved shirt that snapped down the front, along with a hoodie to keep away the light rain still falling. Not exactly chilly, but more so than usual, especially with the dampness. I couldn’t help but dart my gaze all over as I walked, looking for Brax. Where in the world was he? After the night we’d shared it seemed so unlike him to just … leave me alone. It was Saturday. Where could he have gone?
I reached the library and climbed the steps, and pushed into the cool interior, peeling off my hoodie as I did so. Smiling at one of the librarians I’d come to recognize as she busied herself behind the horseshoe entry desk, I hurried past her and made my way to a quiet back corner table in the astronomy section, where I hung my jacket on the back of a chair and sat alone. Fishing my text from my pack, I opened it up, took a deep breath, checked my phone. No message. I turned the volume off, leaving it on vibrate. No getting around it, Brax was heavy on my mind, and despite how whole he’d made me feel the night before, doubt began worming its way into my brain. I closed my eyes briefly, forcing out negative thoughts before they had a chance to latch on. I was being ridiculous. Something came up, he didn’t want to wake me, and he left quietly. Whatever had kept him, he’d been unable to use his phone. Could be any number of things, I reasoned. Physics, Beaumont. Big test coming up. With a frustrated silent swear at my new distraction, I dug into my studies.
Physics held my attention for a while; at least until nearly noon. One of my strong subjects, I made sure I covered all the notes and pages I’d flagged to study. But I’d had enough, and after I’d lifted my phone a hundred times, just to make sure I hadn’t missed a quiet vibrating message from Brax, I packed my stuff up and left.
Now I was getting worried. A sick feeling gnawed at my insides as I crossed the campus. Still overcast and gray out, the rain had slowed to a barely-there drizzle when I entered my dorm. The moment my eyes rested on my bed, visions of Brax and I from the night before flooded me. But he’d been gone by morning, and I hadn’t heard from him since. I dropped my pack on the floor, next to his duffle, then plopped down on my bed. I stared at my hands, recalling how I’d touched him, how he’d felt against my skin.
I was driving myself nuts.
Deciding I couldn’t just sit around the dorm and pace, I yanked off my jeans and boots, trading them for running shorts and a tee shirt. The common room was empty, save for one girl who sat reading a novel on the sofa, and I pushed out of the door and started up the sidewalk at a fast pace. Fast, in hopes of out-running the fear now digging at me. The drizzle falling didn’t deter me; it actually kept my mind occupied as I ran along Main Street, circling the observatory, and skirting the park. It felt good to make my muscles burn, so I kept going, until I found myself at the sports complex. I wasn’t surprised to find it desolate; it was a rainy, dreary, Saturday afternoon. People were holed up in their apartments, their dorms, their houses. Watching TV. Studying. Painting their nails. Gearing up for Saturday night parties. So where was he?
