Page 42 of Narrow Margins

Corrie has been quiet, too quiet. I don’t know what to do, I’m out of my depth here and I don’t like it. Reaching for his hand as we walk through the mall feels so right for me but I feel him tense under my touch; I need to sort this, now.

I step in front of him as we stroll, bringing him to a halt. “Corrie, enough! Stop thinking about it, I get that you struggle to control yourself, I get that you’re worried about me and I also get that you enjoyed it as much as I fucking did, so get the fuck over it!”

“I’m trying to, I’m really trying to.” Corrie’s eyes close slowly, then open again. I still see the storm clouds covering the brilliant blue. “I just need to work out how to control my emotions around you. I need to know how to restrain myself, I don’t want to hurt you.” He shakes his head. “This is so not the place to be talking about it.”

“I agree, but if we wait till we’re home and in bed, it will taint the good times we are going to have in there later, so suck it up and get over it now.” I drop a brief, chaste kiss on his mouth as he gapes at me. “You’re way too hot to sulk. Come on, let’s go and spend shit loads of money.” I kiss him again, this one lasts longer and is sweeter.

Corrie does manage to smile at this, even if he does shake his head in disbelief. “Fine, I’m over it. I’m not sure why you need to buy new clothes, why don’t we just get the stuff from your house?”

“Because, lover of mine, most of my clothes are branded to the race team and, as I no longer work for them, I need new stuff.” I wink and smile.

“Fair enough. You miss it though, I know you do. Yesterday, at the race track, the real you came out again. This modelling shit isn’t going to be enough for you; it’s not enough for me, which is why I do my physical therapy training. I don’t like the primping and fakeness of it all but it pays well, and I like that part of it.”

“Well, it’s all I’ve got at this minute so, I’m going to take it. Now I know the track exists so close to us, I can get my bikes over here and still get the thrill of the ride.” Silently, I agree with him: this isn’t going to work for me, but I want to be with Corrie and that is more important. “And, here is where you are, and you are what I need. Now, are we good to go?”

A genuine smile breaks out across his face, and I’m dumbstruck by exactly how fucking all-American-man handsome he is. “God, you’re a good-looking bastard!”

A real laugh comes from him. “You’re just saying that to get in my pants.”

“Damn right.” And we’re back again, thank fuck!

I’m sprawled out on the sofa, using Corrie’s lap as a pillow; there’s a game on but we’re not really watching it.

“Are you bothered about watching this?” I stroke Corrie’s bare chest, reveling in the way his muscles ripple under my touch.

“Nah, I’ve never bothered much with football, much to the disgust of my father. Which is probably why I chose to take up Gymnastics; I enjoyed pissing him off.” Corrie chuckles, though I find anything to do with his father not even remotely amusing. “Why? Something you would rather watch?”

“Yeah, can I put the bike racing on? I don’t know how I’m going to feel about it going on without me, but there’s only one way to find out.”

Corrie reaches for the remote and changes the channel then rests back and resumes running his fingers through my hair. The feeling is new to me; I was never hugged as a child. I’ve been with plenty of women and never once have they been as loving as Corrie. I don’t understand why I’ve found my forever with a man, but who cares? Love is love, and if my heart calls out for this man, who am I refuse its desire?

The race is a repeat from earlier in the day but I don’t know the result, the fact surprises me. I have always followed every other rider and knew everything about them. This is new and I feel like I’ve let myself down by not keeping up with my rivals. But, they are no longer my rivals, I’m not a racer anymore. It suddenly it hits me and it hurts.

“You know what, turn it off. I don’t want to watch it after all.” I twist to lie flat on my back and look up to Corrie, seeing the puzzled look on his face.

“Why? What’s going on?” His frown makes me smile.

“Nothing, baby, I just get pissed when I see that idiot Casey Winters winning when it should still be me.” I suddenly get a tight feeling in my chest, I haven’t allowed myself to get angry over what happened. I don’t even know why I haven’t been honest with myself about how hurt I feel, but now a tightness constricts my ribcage.

“Come on, Griff, you say you know me. Well, I know you, too. Please, talk to me, because I think you’ve been bottling this up for far too long now.” Corrie’s fingers still stroke through my hair, relaxing me, keeping me centered.

“That fucking bitch!” I burst out. Shit, I didn’t even know I felt like this. Abruptly, something jumps to mind, a thought I can’t believe I haven’t had already. Fucking Casey Winters! He’s been behind this all along! “I think this was a set up! I think Casey fucking Winters was behind it. The only way he’d win a championship is if I wasn’t racing.”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. Griff, it’s all over with. C’mon, just leave it.” Corrie speaks quietly as his fingers run down my neck, soothing my nerves, but it’s not enough.

“How can you say that? How do you think I can just leave it? Fuck! Why didn’t my ‘I’m so shit-hot’ lawyer look into this?”

“Maybe he did, maybe Casey has nothing to do with it? Don’t you think it’s more likely that it was just that gold digger getting back at you because you rejected her?”

Sitting upright and, even though Corrie makes sense, my head screams I lost the greatest job in the world because someone had a grudge. “I need to speak to Manny.” My hands are in my already messy hair, tugging hard as confusion rushes through my mind.

“Griff, I think you need to calm down. It’s late on a Sunday night, you can’t start calling people, demanding answers to questions that aren’t really there.” Corrie tries to lay his hand on my shoulder but I shrug him off and stand up.

“What the fuck do you mean?” I spit out angrily. “I lost my fucking job, my everything. All I’ve ever done in my life is gone! Do you have any fucking idea what that means? Have you ever lost everything you ever worked for? I don’t fucking think so!”

I glare at Corrigan and see the color drain from his face. As he gets to his feet, I realize what I so ruthlessly said. Shit! What the fuck have I just done? “Corrie, shit. Please, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight, please.” But I know it’s too late, the damage has been done.

“You’d better make your call, Griff. I’m sure your manager can make all of this right for you again.” Corrie’s features are tight, his lips a mere thin line and the pain in his eyes is palpable.

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