He had white socks peeking up above his running shoes.
And that was it.
That was the entirety of his running gear.
I suddenly understood the point of jogging. I didn’t know how I couldn’t see it before. Jogging was quite possibly the greatest thing in existence.
Jeremy’s bare arms flexed as they moved against his sides. The dark hair on his chest and stomach was slick with sweat. The muscles in his legs jerked with every running step he took. His thighs looked like they were made of granite. And even though I told myself not to look, I had no choice but to see the outline of his dick bouncing in his shorts. I tried to make some kind of noise, but my mouth was full of almost an entire banana, and my lips kept pressing against it.
The blood was rushing in my ears as he approached our house. And for some goddamn reason, he seemed to slow when he neared us. I didn’t know if it was my own doing, my brain trying to catalogue every single jerk of muscle in his legs, the way his dusky nipples stood out against his tan skin.
And he seemed to go even slower as he passed in front of the house.
Sandy said, “Um, excuse me? Is that—”
Jeremy turned his head to look at our house.
And into the kitchen window.
This was problematic for a few reasons. First, Sandy’s robe made him look like a working girl at the Moulin Rouge. Second, we were obviously being extraordinarily creepy. Third, I was fellating a banana for reasons I couldn’t quite explain.
He saw us.
My hand jerked, shoving the banana farther into my mouth and throat. I barely choked.
His eyes widened.
I pulled the banana out of my mouth in its entirety.
He tripped.
Somehow he managed to stay upright, face flushing brightly. He glanced over at us through the window again and gave a little wave.
I waved back furiously, helpless do to anything but. Unfortunately, I waved with the hand I was holding the banana in, and it broke in half and flipped through the air before slamming into Sandy’s cheek.
Sandy, as one would do when getting a facial from saliva-slick fruit, shrieked and began slapping at his face. “What have you done!”
“I didn’t do anything!” I yelled back at him as the banana bounced off his shoulder and landed on the tile floor, smooshing wetly.
“You were blowing the banana and then you threw it at me!”
My eyes felt like they were about to pop out of my head. “I did not!”
“And that was Jeremy,” he said. He took a step back, hand once again at his throat, because regardless of what else he was, he would always be a drama queen. “And you knew it.”
“I didn’t!” I cried. “I didn’t know!”
He shook his head. “You have never been interested in Hot Jogger Guy until this morning.” His eyes narrowed. “How did you know?” He gasped, jerking his head toward the window. “Did he tell you he jogged by our house when he dropped you off in his slut machine? Is that why you’re up so early, so you could watch him?”
I placed my hands flat against the counter, looking out the window. Jeremy was gone. I thought I should be too. I didn’t know where I would go, but I’d have to start a new life. Jeremy had seen me fucking my face with a banana while ogling him. I would have to become someone new. I wondered if I could get that suit I’d worn when we donned disguises to spy on Darren before he rimmed Sandy in the alley in front of the dumpster behind the restaurant.
God, I really wish that sentence hadn’t made sense.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said stonily.
“You lie,” he growled at me. “How the fuck did I not notice that was Jeremy, aside from being distracted by the way his entire lower half always bounced so prettily? Why the hell is he in our neighborhood?”
I knew the exact moment he figured it out.