therapist as much as a friend to be silly with.” - Robert Brault
Luke
I ’m more than disappointed when I don’t see Roxi on my morning run the next day. By the day after that, I’ve come to the conclusion I must’ve scared her away, when I let my hands slide over her soft skin the way I did. However, when I get to the place we usually meet, she’s standing there, and it seems, waiting for me.
“Hey buddy. ” She emphasises the ‘buddy,’ and I get her unspoken message loud and clear – keep your hands off me today, remember I’m married.
“Hey pal ,” I joke back. What I really mean is message received. Friends, I’m okay with that . “What have you got there?” I ask, looking at the backpack in her hands.
“You’ll see.” She smirks. “You want to head over to the park on Main Street today?” Anything to spend some more time with her.
“Sure.” We jog to the park at a leisurely pace, chatting along the way. “So I didn’t see you yesterday.” I try to sound blasé, as if I’m not worried I overstepped the mark and scared her away the last time I saw her. As though I wasn’t anxious to see her again.
“I had to travel interstate for the day.”
I let out a breath at the realisation she wasn’t trying to avoid me. We’re okay, whatever we are. I know it’s supposed to be just friends, but it feels like there could be something more. However, neither of us are ready to face that. We’re content with this odd kinship just the way it is. “Sounds like fun,” I reply. She snorts and I love the fact that she doesn’t try and act like a lady in front of me, she is who she is, take it or leave it. “Or not,” I infer.
“Definitely not. It was a business dinner, a bunch of snooty people trying to outdo each other.”
“So you’re not the type of woman who likes to dress up and be the belle of the ball?” She scrunches up her face at this, as we come to a stop in the middle of the park.
“No. I’m the type to dress in a pair of cut-offs and a tank and kick around the footy,” she replies as she pulls a football out of the backpack. A Titan’s football. I can’t help but laugh.
“Awesome! I’d love to kick the crap out of the Titans.” The giggle that escapes her is the perfect balance, a tomboy that can have real fun, but still all woman.
We kick the ball back and forth for a while before playing a game. I resist the urge to tackle her, to pull her into my arms and take her down to the ground with me. We play touch instead. After dodging around me and sprinting down the field, Roxi scores again and walks back to me out of breath. Her smile reaches her eyes and her whole face lights up. She has a light sheen of sweat and a pale pink flush, the kind you can only achieve from a good workout. Even with the line of dirt that now trails down the side of her face, she’s healthy and glowing.
I stride up to her and glide my thumb down the mark, cupping her face in the motion. “Got it,” I whisper. Only my hand continues to linger around her delicate features.
“Got what?” She mummers back.
Under any other circumstance, I would reply “I got you,” and kiss her, however I drop my arm and step back. “Just a smudge, it’s gone now.” The spark that was flaring to life between us moments ago, fizzles away. This is one type of fire I’m not trained to deal with, and I’m starting to get the feeling I might get burnt.
*****
I wake up from the most restful day’s sleep I’ve had in ages. I’m unsure if I was just exhausted from all the strenuous exercise this morning, or if Roxi is causing this new sense of peace to wash over me. What I do know is I’m thinking of my new friend way more than I should. I don’t think about other friends like this.
My mind wonders to what I’m going to make for dinner tonight at the station. Most of the guys eat at work when it’s my turn in the kitchen, because I’m one of the only crew members who can actually cook. I had
Learning to Kill: Stories