I needed to get the curiosity about him out of my system, and I hope this was all I had to do to make that happen. I open my eyes wider and wait until I can see clearly again before pulling myself up from the floor. Looking down at the mess I made all over myself, I grab some napkins from the kitchenette area and clean myself off.
My whole body freezes when there’s a knock at the door. There’s only one. I look back, quickly pull my pants up, andcheck out my reflection in the metal toaster before opening the door. No one is there, only the building sitting empty in the dark night. All the lights are out and there’s not so much as a single whisper. Everyone appears to be gone for the night. If that’s the case, then who the hell knocked?
The other trailers’ windows are dark too. I must have been hearing things? I let out a drawn-out breath, and as I turn around to retreat back inside, a white piece of paper with green writing taped to the side of the door catches my attention.
Sterling,
I’m heading out but was thinking about when we ran into each other earlier and I told you to let me know if you go jogging again. I’ll be going first thing when I wake up at six a.m. You’re welcome to come along. I’ll wait ten minutes before I take off. No need to feel bad if you’re not feeling up to it, but if you are, then make sure to bring your best running shoes, otherwise you might struggle to keep up with me.
Cameraman Hayden.
I laugh at the mention of the name I gave him the first night we properly met. I snatch the paper and go back inside, reading his letter three more times. Could I really be alone with him again after what I just did in my trailer while thinking about him sucking my cock?
I sit at the edge of the full-size bed and run a finger over the silly nickname, knowing damn well I’m going to meet up with him tomorrow so that I can at least try.
How else will I know if what I did tonight really worked?
Seven
Hayden
He showed up. One minute late, but he’s here. Sterling is giving me this apologetic look as he tries to catch his breath. He’s wearing black yoga pants that hug his curvy hips and toned calves. Fuck, he’s sexy. Even in that navy-blue oversized hoodie that does nothing for his figure. Reaching into his pocket, he plucks out one AirPod and cups his phone in his other hand.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear my alarm going off and then I couldn’t find my favorite running shoes.” He shoves the AirPod in his ear, dipping his head.
“That’s okay. Lucky for you I’m moving slowly today.”
“Lucky me,” he says, grinning.
I’m the lucky one, if anything. I caught the perfect show before heading to my hotel room last night. He said my name too, notrealizing the trailer window was cracked open. It sounded so good on his raspy tongue. He was all breathy and melting against the door with his swollen purple head spurting cum everywhere.
I was about to head out too, not wanting to be too tired for our run this morning in case he decided to join me. But of course he was going to. No matter how long it took, he was going to get here. We keep crossing paths even when I don’t plan for us to, and if that isn’t a clear sign that we’re meant to be, I don’t know what it is.
“Do you stretch before or after?”
“Usually after,” he says, leaning more to his right side with his hip jutting out.
“Then I’ll do it after too.” I turn to the road and he follows me.
We head across the way, and I start off in a slow jog, his feet picking up after me. I get ahead of him and stay that way for a while. When he catches up, he’s slightly out of breath, shooting me a grin. “You weren’t lying about being fast.”
“You know talking will only make you run out of breath quicker.”
“Maybe I like talking and running out of breath at the same time. Ever think of that?” There’s a headiness in his voice, his eyes holding me captive. They have a way of doing that.
I break contact first, letting out a short laugh. He really shouldn’t say things like that unless he’s absolutely sure he’s ready for me to put them to the test.
“It does sound good coming from you,” I finally respond, and something shifts in his eyes. His speed increases and he leaves me in the dust.
I get ahead of him again, waving back with a shit-eating grin, and he flips me off, acting like the cutest sore loser I’ve ever seen, and I purposely slow down so he can be beside me again.
“You’re not as fast as you think you are,” he bites out.
“No?” I retort.
“No. Maybe I’m letting you get ahead of me. You’ll never know.”
“And maybe I’m letting you catch up.” I lift my shoulders. “You’ll never know either.”