Dalon
Mario is busy taking me through a series of exercises when there is a knock on my door, and I practically jump up to race to the door before I realize I still have a band strapped to my head that Mario is in control of. Luckily, I have been doing these exercises for a really long time, or I would’ve just done some serious damage to my neck. “The fuck are you doing?” Mario asks, but I don’t bother answering as I take the strap off my head and make my way to the door. I quickly swung the door open and then realized that it was not the smartest idea to open the door while we were busy training for a race. There isn’t a lot of sport that has you training your neck the way we have to, and this might just open a very large can of questions, but there is no one in front of the door and I wonder for a moment if I was so desperate to see Jae again that I made the sound up in my head.
“Who is there?” Mario asks, stating that he also heard the knock, and I am not going crazy.
“No one.” I say just as I see the two paper cups on the floor, packets of sugar next to it. At first panic starts to crawl up my spine, thinking that someone might know I am here, but then I remember that I told Jane I could really do with a cup of coffee and she delivered by the looks of it. The guest house isn’t big, so it wouldn’t have taken much to guess that this is my room. Add in the fact that we have music playing, she might have just guessed that this is the place to drop off the coffee. I pick up the coffee and take a sip of the one, realizing that it is cappuccino. Assuming that the other one is for Mario, I take it to him and then make my way to the room next to mine. I knock on the door, but there is no answer. I try my luck by twisting the handle and the door opens with a squeak. I find Jane passed out on her bed, face down and snoring softly. She must have been exhausted to fall asleep so quickly. I start to close the door when I realize that she still has her glasses on. For a moment I contemplated just closing the door, but she did bring me coffee and the best way I can repay her now is by at least taking her glasses off her face. I silently make my way into her room and then slowly pull her glasses off her face. I take in her blonde hair that is all over her face and softly pull it back from her face. She doesn’t even move, doesn’t twitch. She is out cold, and I know I should back away, but I can’t make myself move. She looks like a sleeping angel, her waves of hair lying scattered around her. She is reaching out with her one hand, almost like she was looking for someone and I wonder if she is in a relationship. The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth. A part of me wants to get in this bed with her, just wrap her in my arms and fall asleep, but I have never done that with a stranger, and I shouldn’t be thinking like that about a woman that might very well already be in a relationship. But what is she doing here alone then, if she is in a relationship?
I need to get out of here. My thoughts are reaching dangerous territory, and I can’t have my focus on anything aside from getting my head back in the game and winning the championship. Distractions are dangerous and that makes Jane the most dangerous thing for me right now.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Mario whisper, shouts from behind me, making me practically shout like a little girl as I hold the glasses to my chest. I then start to panic that she might wake up, so I quickly place the glasses on the bedside table, and rush out of the room. I close the door softly behind me and face furious Mario.
“She came with coffee, I wanted to thank her and then I saw she is passed out and still had her glasses on. She might not have another pair, and I was afraid she might break those and then how will she see the rest of the trip?” I ask him, trying to defend my reason for why I entered a room I was most definitely not invited to.
“And what if she wakes up and questions how her glasses ended up on the table when she knows she fell asleep with it?” He brings up a valid point.
“I will just pretend that I have no idea.” I tell him as if that will make everything right.
“So first you lie to the woman about who you are, next you sneak uninvited into her room, what is next?” He asks and I deflate.
“Yeah, yeah, I get what you are saying.” I tell him and shoulder past him and into my room.
“You know nothing can happen between the two of you, right? Not only because of the lies, but she is clearly not from your world, and it would be stupid to pull her in if you are only going to throw her away when you need to get back to reality.
“I can be friends with her for the time being. I can be just a normal guy for a while. When it is time for us to leave, I will just explain the situation to her, and we will never see each other again. It will be fine.” I tell him, knowing that I am just going to end up regretting my lies, but for once, I can be anyone, and not Dalon, the disappointment. This is what I have been craving and even when I know it is wrong, I know that I will take the opportunity, not only because I want to be someone else for a short while, but because I can’t just walk away and never know another thing about Jane.
“You are making a mistake, but you know I will always be there to pick up the pieces.” He says and I wish I could say he is wrong, but he has been picking up the pieces of my life and putting me back together every single time I have struggled to keep it together.
“Let’s just get back to work. I would like to have some time for myself before this day is over.” I tell him, frustrated that he is right, and no matter how attracted I am to this strange woman, I can never be more than friends with her. Besides, between my travels and keeping my focus on winning the championship, I don’t have time for a woman in my life.
It is close to sundown when I hear movement next door, and I try to ignore it. I have only had a few hours to myself, and I have tried to rewatch races, trying to pinpoint all my mistakes to try and see where I could’ve done things differently. I even went as far as watching the comparisons made between myself and Oliver, but that only made me feel like more of a failure as I listened to the commentator sing Oliver’s praises.
“Eina, shit man.” Not sure what language that is, but it sounds like she is in distress. I get up and then sit back down, not sure if I should be running to her rescue or if I should stay right where I am and just pretend like I never met her. “AHHHH!” I get up and run to the door, rushing into her room without knocking, only to realize that I have no weapon, and I might know some hand-to-hand combat, but that isn’t going to get me far if someone broke in and has a gun.
When I find Jane on the floor, her arms outstretched, staring at the roof in frustration, I worry that she might have hit her head and is now dead on the floor, but then she turns her head and finds me standing at the door. “You might as well take a photo and get it over and done with. My humiliation is now complete.” She says and it is only then that I realize she doesn’t have a shirt on, only a sports bra and her pants are currently around her ankles, displaying her very sexy black underwear. It covers everything, but that doesn’t stop my lower body parts from paying very close attention. I clear my throat and turn around.
“Are you alright?” I ask her, but she only gives a defeated laugh. I start to turn back around, but then remember she is not dressed, and I need to get my body under control.
“I wanted to go for a run, but struggled to put on my tights. I bumped my toe against the leg of the bed and then continued to trip as I completely forgot about my pants and tried to reach for my toe. Then I turn around and find you standing in the doorway. You have seen everything there is to see, so no point in trying to hide now.” She truly sounds defeated, and I did see everything, so she has a point. You would like to see a lot more than that. The voice in my head tells me, but I try to ignore it. “I should’ve just gone back to bed, but I really don’t want to waste time sleeping. Now I can’t seem to force myself to stand up. You can leave now.” She says and I hear a rustling behind me. “I am now decent.” She says and I turn around to make sure that she is alright. She is sitting on the bed, her head in her hands.
“Thank you for the coffee earlier.” I try to break the awkwardness, but she only nods. “Hey, are you okay?” I ask, truly concerned that she got hurt. I sit down next to her on the bed, ready to check if there are any damages to her head from the fall.
“Yeah, I am just so tired. I knew jet lag was a real thing, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad.” She looks up and I can already see her eyes dropping again. She looks down at my lap and then back up at me, and for a second I wonder if she is going to try to kiss me, but instead she looks back down at my lap and then the upper half of her body falls to the side and her head ends up in my lap. “I am just going to sleep here if you don’t mind.” She says, but before I can even say anything, her soft snoring is back again, and she is once again out cold.
What the hell do I do now? I can’t just stand up and it feels rude to move her now. She practically made like a dog just now. Found a place that looked comfortable and fell asleep on it. With no idea what else to do and feeling slightly exhausted myself, I lie back on the bed and fall asleep, my one hand behind my head while the other is playing with her hair.
RejenaNeither of us can act like last night didn’t happen. The weight of it sits heavy on my chest the moment I open my eyes. The tangled sheets beside me are cold, empty. I can still feel the ghost of his touch, the warmth of his breath on my skin, but he’s gone.Instead of facing him, facing us, I lace up my sneakers and run. I don’t stretch, don’t think. I just move, pounding my feet against the dirt path, trying to outrun the swirl of emotion threatening to swallow me whole. My lungs burn. My legs scream. But it’s nothing compared to the ache in my heart.By the time I get back, sweat-slick and breathless, I hear him in his room, his voice raised, sharp, frantic. He’s on the phone, arguing. I don’t want to hear the words, but they cut through the walls like glass. He’s already halfway gone.I don’t want to know what he’s saying. I don’t want to know who he’s saying it to.I retreat to my room like a coward, slam the door, and pull my headphones over my ears. I crank the volume up
DalonRejena fits into me like she was made for me, or was I made for her as she is older? It doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters is the fact that her lips taste like tomatoes and basil from the sauce that she had been tasting earlier. What matters is how soft her lips are, and how hard her nails are digging into my chest. Her back is arched, pressing harder into me as if she wasn’t to get as close to me as humanly possible.I lick her lips, begging for access to her mouth and she opens up for me. My grab her legs right under her arse, and then lift her. She quickly wraps her legs around my hips and I feel like I am home. We pull apart to catch our breath, but instead of completely letting her go, I move my lips down her jaw, to her neck, sucking hard right under her ear, wanting to leave a mark on her, needing to show the world that this woman belongs to me.“Jack.” She says, not moaning, but sounding withdrawn. I quickly pull away, not sure what I did wrong. Did she not want
RejenaAfter three hours of writing, I get up and stretch before I head to the shower to wash off this morning as I had walked straight to the typewriter after coming back from the hike with Dallon. I take my time to wash off the sweat and the river water, taking extra care to wash my hair. Once I am done, I decide to put a bit of effort into my looks. I take my time to style my hair in perfect waves, then apply a light eye-shadow that makes my eyes pop slightly more.I slipped into my green summer dress, the lace cool against my skin, light as a breath. The green is the shade of new leaves and summer fields, soft and alive all at once. Tiny, embroidered vines curled along the hem and sleeves, little leaves stitched in delicate patterns that danced when I moved. It felt less like putting on clothing and more like stepping into something wild and beautiful, like wearing a piece of the season itself.My shoes are silver sandals that wrap up my legs, giving me the feeling of being a godd
DalonAfter four hours of walking through the woods, Rejena taking photos of every possible thing she can, including myself and a few of us together, we finally make it to the river she had been swimming in yesterday. With the heat and the constant movement, the river sounded like a dream, and I didn’t bother to hide like Rejena felt the need to do when I changed into my swim shorts. You only live once, right? I tried not to turn around after I got dressed, trying to give her the time and privacy she needed, but I turned around, hoping to even get just a glimpse of her. What I didn’t expect was to get a front row view of her getting undressed. Her back is to me, but I don’t mind as I am an ass man.Rejena is busy pulling on her bikini bottoms, her upper half behind the tree she was probably trying to hide behind, but doing a really bad job of. Unfortunately, I am too far away from her to see anything more than that perfect ass as she bends over to put her feet into the bikini bottoms.
RejenaHe doesn’t want to tell me the truth, doesn’t want to tell me who he truly is, and I am not going to lie, that hurts. I understand that he is afraid, but I had hoped that I was worth risking it for. I wonder if I am the only one developing feelings, if I am such a sad romantic, so lost in the hopes that I would some day have the kind of love like those in romance books, that I am going in way over my head and making this into more than it is. Did I imagine the times he looked at me with interest? Did I imagine the deeper emotions? I feel like I am on a racetrack, racing at top speed, only to realize there are no breaks. I am terrified of how this is going to end and at the same time, I am pumped full of so much adrenaline that the idea of stopping is just as terrifying. I don’t want this time with him to end, but I know in a few days, he needs to head to Miami for his race and I need to get back home, to my boring, over worked life. Reality sucks sometimes.“Are you ready to ge
DalonThere is a knock on my door. An insistent banging that has me pissed off before my eyes are even open. “I have coffee, and I am standing in a bra in front of your door.” That has me up quicker than my pounding headache from all the wine last night should’ve ever allowed me. She said coffee and bra though, so my legs are moving even if it takes my head a while to catch up.I rip the door open at the same time I start to stumble and end up knocking my toe on the hook of the door, sending instant blinding pain all the way up my foot. I groan in pain, but still force my eyes to stay open to the sight had tempted me out of bed. Jane is standing in her black tights, black running shoes and bright white sports bra, that to my frustration has enough padding and material to keep me from seeing the outline of anything. I don’t even see a nipple stand. This is what I stumbled out of the bed for and hit my toe against the door for?“I have coffee, I did not lie about the bra, even though I
RejenaI get to see the kitchen! That is like another dream come true as I love cooking, but don’t do it often as I am the only one I would be cooking for. It is a lot of effort after a long day. I find Mila waiting for me in the kitchen, an apron wrapped around her waist. I wrap her up in a tight hug and wonder what she is doing here. Being up at the butt crack of dawn and then working late nights can’t be easy, and she is clearly not a spring chicken anymore.“Senorita Mila! What are you doing here?” I ask her, completely forgetting that she might not understand what I am saying.“I teach you to cook. You skinny and need food.” She says with a strict voice, and I laugh at her. I might be slim, but I do love eating.“Jack può unirsi a noi?” I ask her, not sure if I am pronouncing the words correctly, so I say it really slowly. She seems to understand that I am asking for Jack to join, and she calls the waiter whose name I never bothered to ask, but find out it is Simon. She tell him
Dalon“Buonasera, un tavolo per due, per favore.” Jane says and again, I can only assume that she is asking for a table. The restaurant that we found is a very small cozy brick building with low lights. It looks romantic, but I know there is no romance happening tonight, or any other night. Not that I would be opposed to it. I have never been with a woman more than two years older than me, but it is probably the same, right?“You need to teach me how to speak Italian.” I tell Jane as we are lead to a private corner in the back of the restaurant. The couches are a tan brown, nearly blending in with the brick wall. The dim lights casts shadows throughout the restaurant, ensuring that every table has a bit of privacy. Aside from the kitchen making slight noises, the only other sound you can hear is soft music playing in the background. If I ever decide to get serious with a woman, this is definitely a place I would take her. My eyes move from the setting back to Jane and the idea starts
RejenaWriting has always been my passion. In high school it was short little poems, then after that, journaling had become my number one go to as I was struggling to talk to people about my thoughts and emotions. Writing as much as reading had been my safe haven and I have lost my passion for writing when work came in the way. The books I had been writing for the past year were books I started writing two years ago and after Collen passed away, I just didn’t feel that passion anymore. For one, I write romance books. How are you supposed to write romance books when every time you even consider getting romantic with someone, you feel like you are cheating on the person that you loved and never learned to unlove?My fingers are flying over the keyboard, the clicking of the typewriter a different kind of music all in its own league. The story I am writing is not one I will ever publish. Not because it isn’t good or worthy of people swooning over it, but because it is private. It is my li