Page 3 of The Mountain Man's Virgin
As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. Knowing the players were watching had pushed me to run faster than I had in months. I was both excited and disappointed in myself. Attention from the opposite sex was new to me. Had I been showing off?
I stood up and tried to subtly pull down the legs of my short track shorts. No matter what I did, they always rode up over my muscular thighs.
“Thirsty?” I heard a low voice ask.
I turned to see one of the rugby players staring at me. Eek! Had Mr. America just seen me pick my wedgie? I blushed at the thought.
He held out a metal water bottle and smiled at me. His sandy blonde hair rustled in the warm September wind that fluttered his rugby jersey against his body. His shirt was just tight enough for me to see the definition of his pecs and his six-pack - or wait, could that be an eight pack? My eyes trailed back to his bronzed Adonis-like arm, still offering up the water bottle.
I cleared my throat and tried my best to smile at him. “Thank you,” I said, taking the bottle and screwing off the top. I was an accomplished athlete and my pulse should’ve already recuperated to resting rate, but with this man in front of me, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. My hands were shaking as I took a swig, and it was like I had never drunk before in my life, the cold water spilling down the front of my racing tank.
“Shit,” I whispered under my breath, brushing the water off my top.
“Here,” Mr. All-American smiled again and handed me the towel from his back pocket.
I shook my head and thanked him, dabbing at the water with his towel. It was extremely soft, and I noticed that it had LL embroidered on it in gold.
“Thank you,” I managed to stammer.
“You’re welcome,” he grinned, his impossibly perfect teeth glinting in the sunlight.
“LL?” I asked as I handed the towel back to him.
“Lawrence Locklear,” he said, extending his hand. “Actually, it’s Lawrence Locklear the Third.”
“Lucy,” I replied. “Lucy McKennit the First.” Shit, that sounded a lot cuter in my head.
Lawrence laughed. “Well, Lucy McKennit the first, you certainly can run. Maybe we should go for one together sometime.”
“One what?” I asked.
“A run,” he looked at me like I was a little slow.
“Sorry, of course.” I shook my head. I was a frickin’ biochemist, why couldn’t I follow a basic conversation? “I would love that.”
And that was the start of our whirlwind romance. We had met for a run every day for two weeks and spent the entire time talking and pushing each other physically. I still couldn’t believe that someone like Lawrence would be into me. He could have any girl on campus, yet he was spending hours a day with me. I talked myself into thinking that he was just looking for a running partner. Yet, I started wearing makeup to practice - not a lot, just a little concealer and some waterproof mascara. And I started pulling out my padded sports bras, leaving the compression uni-boob creating bras at the back of my drawer.
My friends were convinced that he was into me, but I wasn’t so sure. That all changed one day when we were running in the pouring rain. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, stopping us in our tracks.
“Lucy, when are you going to kiss me?”
“Excuse me?” I was shocked and excited. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the heart rate monitor on my wrist spiking.
Then he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me in close. It was like a scene from a Nicholas Sparks movie, all the anticipation from the past few weeks had built to this moment. So, why had I been disappointed in the kiss? It was dull. His lips felt hard and strange against mine. I had been imagining this moment repeatedly, but in my imaginary scenarios, my stomach had been full of butterflies. With the actual kiss, there was, well, nothing.
He pulled back and stared at me with his muddy brown eyes while the raindrops dripped off his ridiculously long eyelashes.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
I couldn’t say no. He was such a catch, but why wasn’t my body responding to him?
And just like I couldn’t say no to him that day in the rain six months ago, I couldn’t say no to him now. The same expectant eyes looked up at me from down on bended knee.
“Yes,” I whispered to him.
He smiled and stood up, and the restaurant erupted in cheers. He slid the giant ring onto my finger and kissed my hand.
“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”
