The early morning knock on the door sent me flying out of my bed. The first few knocks had somehow incorporated themselves into my dreams, but the fourth and fifth had me jumping. It was freezing, still dark, and I had no idea who the hell was at the door. I was exhausted from my night at the restaurant and JJ and Bruce were probably unconscious. I opened the door and peered out.
"Morning." It was Ben. It was a perky, enthusiastic version of him dressed in...he was wearing...
What the hell was he wearing?
He was dressed head-to-toe in a sporty purple, polyester Adidas tracksuit-of all things decent in this world. The whole outfit seemed totally incongruous to what I was used to. He was also jogging up and down on the spot and looking wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. I wondered if I was still sleeping.
"What the hell?" I said in a sleepy voice, yawning in between words. I was too tired and shocked to care that my boss-ex-one-night stand-was seeing me in my pajamas with my sleepy, puffy no make-up face on.
He looked at his watch. "It's five; aren't you going jogging this morning?
"Huh? Jog-" I knew this was going to come back to bite me. "Oh. Jogging. Um... "
"Great morning for it!" He sounded fired up and enthusiastic, with his brand new bright orange sneakers and matching headband-Who wears a headband? That is so Wimbeldon 1987! The sight of him in those clothes was almost more shocking than the fact he was at my house at 5 in the morning.
"Ben, seriously, what are you doing here?"
He feigned a look of shock. "Look, I know you don't want to go out with me, but there's no rule against being friends right? And you jog, and I need to do some exercise. You'd be doing me a favor, actually."
"Um..." I was still semi-conscious and had no idea what to say to him, and when I opened the door further, he came jogging straight in with a spring in his step as if he was some kind of frigging gazelle.
I couldn't believe Mr. Overly Enthused was actually jogging in circles in my living room. All he needed were some pom-poms and a cheesy war cry to complete the look. This was a far, far cry from the guy with a cigarette behind his ear and his perfect vintage suits.
And then he did something disturbing; he actually gave the air a fist pump.
"Whoa!" He whooped. "I am fired up!" He continued to jog in circles. Surely he wasn't serious? It was hard to know what to do. I had to find a way out of this.
"Look. I lied. I'm not going jogging this morning, or any morning."
"You're just saying that because you don't want me to come with you."
"I'm not."
"Are you scared I'll hold you back, keep you from cracking those 20k's?" He said it with a smile on his face.
"Ben. I'm not going jogging with you."
He suddenly swung himself up and put his arms in the air, moving his hands in large circles-he was clearly making this shit up as he went. "But I went out and bought the whole outfit," he complained "I even downloaded a running app and it's hooked up to this watch. Look." He stuck his arm out in front of my nose. "It counts steps, calories, kilometers, the whole bang shoot."
I sighed, Ben was just about the most persistent person I'd ever met and he was now bending his knees and doing what I suppose was meant to be a hamstring stretch of sorts.
"I'm serious. I lied to you. I don't jog. Ever."
His demeanor changed somewhat. He stopped stretching and looked up at me. "You lied? To me? Your Boss?"
I swallowed hard and felt a little panicked. I wasn't sure how to read Ben, I wasn't sure if he was seriously angry or not. "No. Of course I wouldn't lie to you. My boss."
He smiled. "I didn't think so. An employee such as yourself knows the value of trust in the work place." And then he winked at me as if he was teasing.
"Fine. Wait here." I conceded and walked off to my room. How hard could it be to jog? It was just a fast variation of walking. I opened my cupboard and pulled out an old tracksuit and slipped on an equally old pair of sneakers. I passed the mirror and caught sight of myself. I had serious bed head, so I ran a brush through my hair and scraped it into a messy bun. I couldn't believe I was actually about to go jogging, with Ben, at five in the morning, in winter. Clearly I'd lost my mind.
"Okay, let's go, I guess." I exited the room and found him mid-stretch. Despite myself, I couldn't help a small laugh. He looked utterly absurd.
"What? They say stretching is as important as working out!" he said, standing up again with a rather pleased look on his face.
"Mmmm," I nodded.
We walked downstairs towards the foyer, but when I got there and looked outside, I knew I needed someone to have me committed. It was dark and it looked freezing.
"Okay," I said, cringing, pushing open the doors and walking into Antarctica. My nose felt like it had just been flash frozen and I could barely see through the steam of my hot breath. Ben, however...
"Refreshing," he said with an unnatural amount of vigor. "Which way?" He was still jogging on the spot, bobbing up and down enthusiastically.
"Whichever."
"Well don't you have a route? A 20K one?"-Fuck! This was getting way out of hand.
"Follow me." I started jogging in a random direction-which happened to be up a steep hill-oops.
It didn't take long until I was doubled-over and completely out of breath.
"STOP! Oh my God...Crap, shit... (gasp, gasp, gasp) Holy...Stop." I was gasping for air and clutching my knees. My lungs felt like they had been frozen and were about to breathe fire, my muscles stung, my lips felt like they were going to be ripped off by the cold wind, and my nose was running far better than I was.
"Okay, I give up. I lied. I don't flippin jog, okay I lied to my boss!"
Ben gasped dramatically, "You didn't?!"
"I did. I'm a liar, a lying untrustworthy employee or whatever you want to think, but I...(pant, pant, pant)...Oh my God I think I taste blood. Is it supposed to hurt like this? I need to sit down...(gasp, gasp, gasp)."
I flyng myself down dramatically onto the cold hard pavement. Everything hurt.
"What are you doing?" Ben said with a smile.
"Horizontal jogging. Ok." Ben stopped jogging and came to rest against a low wall.
"So I guess 20Ks is out of the question then?" he said with a mocking smile plastered across that stupidly good-looking face of his.
"Shut up," I spat back at him. "Is your heart supposed to beat like this?" I was clutching my chest tightly in case my heart decided to burst out of it.
A few seconds later Ben was kneeling next to me and had a hand on my back, rubbing it in slow, soothing circles. I was too exhausted to resist and soon the feel of it brought back bad thoughts-me on his lap riding him, him kissing my neck, running his hands over my ba...a...aaa...c...
STOP!
I jumped up quickly but something caught my eye. "Aaahhh. Crappin hell. What's that?" A giant rat looked at me before diving back into the drain. "See? It's not natural for people to be out of the streets at this time."
"I couldn't agree more," Ben said, smirking. "So pancakes and coffee at my place then? I make these amazing Mascarpone and berry pancakes. I've been told they're unforgettable."
"Really?" I flashed him a look even though my face felt like it was going to crack. "By whom?" I imagined all the droves of women that had crawled out of his bed or back seat in the morning being made pancakes as they picked their panties up off the floor-if he didn't steal them and put them in his pocket.
A gust of wind blew and it felt like a million icy pins piercing my entire body.
"It's freezing out here, let's get inside and then we can debate how good my pancakes are." Ben was off running in the direction of our building. "Last one there's a rotten egg," he called over his shoulder. I hadn't heard that phrase since my sister and I'd played catch in the garden.
I shook my head. This was disastrous. All my attempts at avoidance weren't working-Pancakes? At his place?