He grinned. “What’s up, sweetness, you not wearing any panties? Why so hesitant?” he asked, nudging Zach in the ribs with a proud grin.
Zach rolled his eyes, his thumb stroking a lazy circle against the small of my back. It was strangely soothing. “Ignore these assholes, they’re not used to talking to girls, so they forget how to be civilised,” he said to me, shooting them a warning glare. “Leave her alone and let’s get this session done so I can take her home.”
A grin split Jase’s face. “Eager to get her home, huh? Don’t blame you there,” he stated, winking at me playfully.
Oh God, is he flirting with me? I wasn’t used to this at all.
Zach’s hand left my back and he lunged at the guy quickly. I gasped, panicking, until I realised they were both laughing as they seemed to asses each other, both lunging and striking out at the other, but neither of them landing any blows. I watched as Zach sunk into an attacking posture, his legs bent, his arms out ready like some kind of silent ninja. The other guy did the same, both of them grinning like kids at a pro wrestling match. It was surprisingly sexy, and I couldn’t help the little thrill that went through me as they seemed to dive into some kind of kung fu stunt routine that they were obviously making up on the spot.
After a couple of minutes of them aiming kicks and punches, and dodging the blows with apparent ease, the other guy stood up and held his hands up innocently, laughing breathlessly. “Fine, I won’t wink at your woman again,” he stated.
Zach grinned, wrapping his arm around the other guy’s neck, playfully rubbing his hair. “Good, because she’s not interested. Right, little rebel?” He looked back and me and laughed as I shot him a scathing look because of the name. Before I could either answer or protest, he leant in and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. I felt the blush heat my face and neck as his lips lingered on my skin for mere seconds before he pulled back and smiled his lazy, playful smile. “Go sit over there and watch your man blow your panties off with his talent,” he teased using Jase’s words, nodding at a little wall that was behind me.
I gave him a sarcastic smile, rolling my eyes as I trudged over to the wall and hoisted myself up to perch on the edge. My feet dangled inches from the floor as I looked up at them expectantly. Zach grinned and pulled off his black hooded sweatshirt, tossing it at me without warning so I almost fell off of the wall as I jerked to catch it.
He grinned wickedly. “Put that on, it’s cold,” he instructed. It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t wait for an answer as he turned and walked a few yards away with the other boys, chatting animatedly with them as they pointed at stuff intermittently, waved their hands around or drew on the concrete floor with a piece of chalk. I shrugged his sweater on, grateful of the warmth that it still held from his body. I pulled the sleeves over my hands, cocking my head to the side, preparing to watch what he called ‘fun’.
I’d never seen anything like it; it both frightened and exhilarated me at the same time. It was beautiful in an odd, thrilling kind of way. I watched with an open mouth and wide eyes as Zach and his group fooled around, back flipping off of walls, jumping from the top of the building to the smaller building off to one side, literally running up walls and throwing themselves off, seeming to know something that gravity itself didn’t know.
I watched with my heart in my throat as Zack literally ran from the top of the building, side jumped a wall as if it was no more than a foot high, hit the ground in a forward roll and then stood gracefully on his feet. It was like gymnastics on steroids. I never expected to like it, in fact, I thought I would hate it, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. There was so much going on around me, people calling for my attention, trying to show off, offering to do more and more to impress me, but I couldn’t drag my gaze off of Zachary Anderson.
At some point over the last hour and a half he’d taken off his T-shirt and thrown it down on the wall next to me. The muscles rippled in his arms and back as he ran up a wall that was easily eight foot high, he then boosted himself up so he was doing a handstand on the wall, before bending in half, lowering his legs so that he was at a perfect right angle, all his weight held on just his arms, suspended eight foot in the air. The balance and strength that it took stole my breath as my heart hammered in my ears. Fear gripped my stomach. The danger of everything they were doing wasn’t lost on me, my brain was still envisioning him falling on his face and how much that would hurt, but strangely, I knew he’d be fine. I somehow trusted him to know his limits and keep himself safe.
I learned two things while I watched him and his group prepare for the upcoming festival. One, Zach Anderson was an incredible freerunner. And two, I had never appreciated the male form more than I did when I watched him do it. It was beauty personified.
By the time they were finished my mouth was dry where it had been open, gasping in shock and excitement every few seconds, my eyes stung where I probably hadn’t blinked as much as I should because I didn’t want to miss a single second of it. They all stood, talking and laughing, congratulating each other before Jase sent me a little wave, grabbed his bag and skateboard and disappeared off in the opposite direction. The others followed, waving to me before heading off.
Zach smiled as he walked over to me. In the early evening sunshine that was just starting to fade, I could see the sweat glistening on his toned chest. He looked older like that for some reason. The mastery that he exuded during his training had kind of made me see him in a new light. When I looked at him now I didn’t see the cheeky bad boy that backchat the teachers and fought with Luke, I saw a guy that was so good at something that it made my stomach quiver, I saw a person that loved doing parkour more than anything in the world, I saw a person struggling and wanting something so badly that he would give anything for it. It was simple, Zach wanted to do this professionally, it was easy to read from his demeanour and how seriously he took it all. And I could help him by making sure he graduated.
He grinned, reaching for his bag and pulling out a drink bottle. “Like it or not?” he asked, before chugging on the bottle like he hadn’t drunk in years.
Did I like it? Did I even have the words to express how much I enjoyed that? I opened my mouth and then closed it again before laughing because I could barely remember how to speak. He’d literally boggled my mind. I nodded, swallowing, trying to form a coherent sentence.
He smiled and tossed the empty bottle in his bag, pulling out a small towel and rubbing it over his face and neck before moving down to his chest.
And by then I’d forgotten how to speak for a completely different reason as I watched his hand, seeming entranced by the movement of the towel stroking his chest, soaking up the beads of sweat. I suddenly had visions of me doing that for him, my hand gliding over his skin, feeling the grooves of his chest, tracing the muscles.
Oh dear lord I need help!
I sat up straighter, forcing my eyes back to his face as I grabbed his T-shirt, holding it out to him. Maybe if he put the shirt on I’d be able to remember how to speak words other than complete fan-girl gibberish.
“That… Zach… It…” Snap out of it, Maisie!
He tossed the towel carelessly into the bag, obviously having no idea that in that moment the pure maleness, the rugged power he was emitting was making my teeth ache with longing. “You got bored I bet,” he stated casually as he shrugged on the T-shirt, finally seeming to let me out of the trance I had been in for the last hour. As soon as the T-shirt was over his head, his face disappearing for a few seconds as he pulled it down, I finally got a grip of myself.
I felt the grin stretch across my face as I sprang from the wall I was perched on, practically jumping on the spot as I gushed about how much I loved it, how good he was at it, how it blew my mind on a level I wasn’t expecting.
He looked a little taken aback as he listened to my excited chirping with sceptical eyes. “You really liked it? I thought you’d be bored stiff,” he replied, shaking his head as he picked up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder.
“Bored? No way! I loved it. The beauty of it, the freeness, the angles, the impossibility of what you were doing, and the bravery. Just, wow,” I gushed, gripping his arm excitedly. He raised one eyebrow as he slung a heavy arm around my shoulder and nodded back the way we came. This time as we walked I didn’t pay any attention to the art that was sprayed on the walls. The art that I’d found inspiring less than two hours ago, was now in the far recesses of my mind as I asked him question after question about how he got into it, how long he trained for and any other thing I could think of to ask about parkour. He answered everything, smiling, seeming bemused, as if he was expecting my reaction to be the complete opposite of what it was.
By the time we got back to his bike, it was starting to get dark. He grinned that boyish, teasing little smile and held out the helmet to me as he threw his leg over the bike and scooted forward so I could slide up behind him. I gripped the bottom of his hoodie that I was still wearing; about to pull it off, but his hand gripped mine as he shook his head.
“Just leave it on, it’s cold on the bike and I’m still sweating anyway,” he stated.
I gulped, my eyes flicking to chest as I mentally screamed at myself to not think about him shirtless again. I had no idea what had come over me earlier, but I still felt the residual ebb of it now, flitting through my bloodstream. I definitely needed help from a professional. “Yeah, the Spider-Man stuff looked exhausting,” I replied, pulling the sweater down again before taking the offered helmet.
He grinned, gripping my hand tightly, holding me steady as I climbed on behind him, looping my arms around his waist. I tried extremely hard not to spread my fingers wide across his stomach in a bid to cop a sly feel of his muscles, but I just didn’t have control of my stupid hand. I palmed his stomach with both hands, my fingers stretching out in what I hoped passed as an innocent move. I could feel the heat of his skin through the thin T-shirt he was wearing; I gulped and pressed myself to him tighter. His shoulders stiffened as he moved his head, seeming like he was going to look over his shoulder at me, before deciding better of it. Suddenly he stood up; kick started the bike, and then sat back down again. I smiled and pressed my helmeted head against his shoulder, closing my eyes, clinging to him as he twisted the throttle, making us burst from the parking lot in a puff of black smoke.