The next morning, Julie woke up around ten, as per Saturday tradition, changed into her running gear and made her way to Central Park. There was something about the sprawling green space in the midst of skyscrapers combined with the rhythmic pounding of her feet on the pavement that allowed her to relax and clear her mind of the previous week's stresses.
As she wound through the park, sweat starting to bead on her forehead, her thoughts almost immediately traveled, as they had tended to do since he had left her doorway the night before, to Tim. As if fate thought it would be funny to play a cruel joke on her, she glanced ahead the object of her thoughts running in her direction. Why did she have to run into him, out of all people, when she looked her absolute worst? She was pretty confident that her hair was matted to her forehead. One would think that in a city of over eight million, these little run-ins would be few and far between.
Assuming that the best way to avoid him was to turn and continue her run from the way she had come, she quickly turned around, hoping and praying that he was one of those intense runners who didn't notice those around him. She thought wrong.
"Jules?" She heard him say as he fell into pace next to her. Julie figured he must have increased his speed slightly to catch up to her.
"Hi Tim," she responded, trying not to sound embarrassed by the state he had found her in.
"You do this often?" He gestured around the park.
She nodded. "Every Saturday morning," was her response.
"That's nice. I just discovered how nice it was is here, well, today," he admitted. "How much longer do you have?"
"About a mile," she guessed.
He nodded, accepting her answer. "Want a running buddy?"
Thinking to herself that there was absolutely no way she would be able to keep up with his pace, he was after all a professional athlete and probably in remarkably better shape that she was, she had every intention of telling him no before her mouth betrayed her. "Sounds great," she heard herself say.
They fell into a comfortable rhythm, Julie surprising herself with how she was able to keep up with Tim. When they came to the west edge of the park, Julie turned to him. "Well, this is me," she said with a shrug after slowing her pace to a casual walk. Tim followed her actions.
"Do you, uh, have plans tonight?" he asked before she was able to come up with anything clever to say so that she could escape to her shower and rid herself of the sweat that accumulated during her run, along with the embarrassment of the state Tim had witnessed her in.
"Uh, I actually promised my friend Daphne that I would go this concert with her in Soho, some band she recently discovered or something. I think she has a think for the drummer." Julie was really dreading it, she was pretty sure the concert would be as painful as the early Crucifictorious concerts had been.
"You don't sound too excited about it," Tim responding, catching the reluctance in her voice.
"I'm not," she answered bluntly.
"Would it be better if we double teamed her?"
Julie grinned at his question. It seemed that he really did want to spend more time with her, even if it meant having to endure torture in the form of music.
"No, I don't want to force you to sit through that," she shook her head back and forth as she spoke.
He shrugged. "I really don't mind, and you never know, it might be fun."
"Fun?"
"Okay maybe not fun," he admitted, "but we can make fun of it together"
Julie pondered it for a second, finally giving in. If he wanted to inflict the torture that was sure to ensue tonight, she wasn't going to stop him. "Well, if you insist," she said with a grin before delving into details.
–
Julie decided to keep Daphne in the dark as to who her date for the evening was, knowing that the priceless look on her face would be worth it, regardless of how many questions would follow. She was right. Daphne practically had to pick her jaw up off the floor and reattach it to her face when Julie had walked in with Tim, his hand resting comfortably on the small of her back.
With Tim at the bar ordering a rounds of drinks, Daphne obviously spotted her opportunity to question Julie and ran with it. "Oh my God, Jules, how did you get him here?" she asked, leaning across the table so she wouldn't have to yell.
"He wanted to come," Julie shrugged innocently. This was going to be too fun.
Daphne furrowed her eyebrows, not believing a second of it. "You slept with him," she said a few seconds later.
"No," Julie defended herself, "of course I didn't sleep with him."
"Well, then you kissed him at least, right?" Daphne demanded.
"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," Julie said in her best princess voice, a slight blush forming on her cheeks.
Daphne made a show of taking in a deep breath and fanning herself. "What was it like?"
"I'm not going into this with you," Julie defended herself.
"But you will," Satisfaction oozed from Daphne's voice. Julie rolled her eyes. It wasn't entirely out of the realm of the possibility that she might go into details about the kiss at a later date, but not with Tim less than twenty feet away.
"Ladies," Tim returned to the table, "here are your drinks." In front of Julie, he placed the beer she had requested. She was thankful to see Tim again in a place that was more his element, not that she was complaining about the sophisticated, worldly Tim she had seen the previous night, but there was something about Tim and being in a bar that seemed to fit.
"Thanks," Julie turned to him and smiled.
He met her gaze. "No problem," his voice carried his Texas twang more heavily than normal as he casually settled his arm around the back of the booth, his fingers lightly grazing her shoulder every now and then.
"So," he turned to Daphne, "who's the band?"
"Well, they don't technically have a name yet, they just play in bars sometimes. I am like in love with the drummer," she giggled, obviously enjoying having Tim's attention.
"In love...wow," Tim nodded. To Julie, the sarcasm was clear in his voice, but Daphne didn't catch on.
"Completely. We've only been on a couple of dates, but I'm positive he feels the same way," she sounded so hopeful it was almost painful.
"That's nice," Tim said, clearly attempting to hide a grin from spreading across his face. When he turned to face Julie, though, she had the same expression on her face. Instantly, they erupted into a fit of laughter that caused them to fall all over one another. Their bubbly laughter only stopped when breathing was necessary.
"What's so funny?" Daphne asked innocently.
Julie straightened herself and bit her lip to stop her laughter. "Nothing, just uh, an old inside joke thing," she turned to Tim to corroborate the story only to be launched into laughter once again.
"I have to go to the ladies room" Daphne announced with annoyance.
"Uh, okay," Julie said innocently. "Oops," she said once her friend was out of earshot.
"That was painful, Jules," he said with wide eyes, downing the rest of his beer in one long drag.
"I warned you," Julie pointed out.
He stood. "I know you did. Want another drink?"
"Might as well just bring a whole pitcher," she sighed. If they were going to make it through tonight with the awful background music and Daphne's declarations of love, they were going to need it.
On second thought, "Or shots! Tequila please!" Julie shouted across the bar, hoping Tim would hear her. He did, nodding in agreement.
–
"You know what they say about tequila," Julie slurred as Tim led her through the doorway of the bar. Finally, the concert had ended and they were free to go without offending anyone. To make it through the thirteen songs the band had insisted on playing, Julie and Tim had gone shot for shot through a bottle of tequila, amounting to at least five shots a piece, though Julie had lost count after four. You see, liquor and Julie had never formed the solid relationship that liquor and Tim had. That, and had a significantly higher amount of body mass to process the alcohol than she did, resulting in a very drunk Julie and a much less drunk Tim.
"What's that?" He played along; of course he knew what they said about tequila.
"Tequila makes her fall clothes off," she mixed up her words. "I mean, uh, clothes fall off," she giggled, realizing her mistake.
"Is that right?" he chuckled. She really was an adorable drunk.
She nodded, followed by a hiccup. "Uh huh," she finally said.
Suddenly, Julie stopped on the sidewalk. The new heels she had bought earlier in the day were rubbing a hell of a blister on her toes and, at the time, it seemed like a great idea to take them off. "My feet hurt so so so bad," she mumbled while using his arm for balance.
"Jules, leave your shoes on," he tried to stop her but she wasn't complying.
"How about we grab a taxi?" He suggested, realizing that she wasn't in any condition to walk the entire way home, even with his help.
"No, no taxi. I want to walk and feel the breeeeeze on my face. Such a pretty night, right Tim?" Every few words were slurred as she looked up at him with an endearing smile on her face.
"Jules," he pleaded, "let's just get you home, okay?"
"But I don't want to go home," she was adamant about that fact. So, she plopped down on the nearest sidewalk bench, immediately slumping to the side.
Tim sighed loudly. "You leave me no choice," he grumbled before picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder fireman style.
"Tiiiiiim," she shrieked loudly, her main concern over whether or not she was flashing New York City. He ignored her pleas though, depositing her in the first cab he could flag down and climbing in behind her.
When they arrived at her building, she was teetering between being awake and passing out. "Come on, Jules," Tim said in a surprisingly gentle tone, pulling her into his arms. This time, he carried her with one arm under her knees and the other bracing her shoulders, her arms draped casually across his neck. He nodded to the doorman as he passed before finally making it upstairs and into her apartment using the key he had found in her purse.
He settled her onto the couch once he made it through the door before making his way into the kitchen to find her some water and aspirin that she would surely want in the morning.
"You know what this reminds me of?" she mumbled from her spot on the sofa, drifting into lucidity for a few minutes. He hadn't realized she was still awake.
"What's that, Jules?" he asked before padding back into the living room and sitting on the floor next to where he had deposited her.
"That night when I was too," hiccup, "drunk to not make a huge mistake and you took me home and got in trouble because I, well, I tried to kiss you and my dad walked in. My dad, your coach, it was terrible wasn't it?" She rambled.
"It was no problem," he assured her, assuming that her ramblings were a form of saying thank you.
"No, it was. My dad made you leave because he thought you were trying to take," hiccup, "advantaaage of me and you weren't. I'm sorry and thank you," she said after a few minutes of gathering her thoughts, this statement only a few less slurs more coherent than the first. Luckily, Tim was able to get the general idea of the statement.
"You're welcome. Now get some rest," he said, smoothing her hair away from her face.
She reached up and grabbed his wrist, stopping his movements. "Stay with me," she said as more of a plea than a question.
"Alright," he nodded, a quick answer without thinking. "You want me to take you to your bed or do you think you can handle it?"
"I can handle--" she said, stopping when she sat up and realized that her apartment was still spinning. Her hands latched onto his shoulders for support.
"No you can't," he chuckled, gently grabbing her arm and helping her up and across the living space to the door that he assumed was her room.
"It looks like your closet threw up in here," he commented when he opened the door. Though she had cleaned up earlier in the morning, while getting ready for the concert it had exploded again.
"I couldn't decide what to wear," she admitted before tumbling onto her bed face down still wearing her shoes.
"I see that," he joked, his gaze traveling around the space before his attention turned back to her and sliding her shoes off. Grasping her waist, he slid her up closer to the head of the bed as opposed to where she had fallen at the foot. Once she was settled and covered in a blanket, he turned and headed for the door.
"No, in here," she said, her voice muffled from the pillows surrounding her.
His eyebrows rose in surprise. "I'll just be right out here on the couch," he assured her.
"Tim, please," she pleaded, her voice practically a whisper. Clearly, she was merely seconds away from succumbing to sleep.
"Okay," he finally answered before sitting on the edge of the bed, dropping his boots to the floor, and settling in next to her.
--
Surprise! I had this chapter written before I headed out of town and got a chance to log on and update...hope it's enjoyable. Up next: Waking up! I'll try to update some time this week.