And then there was Morgan at the heart of this mess. Sweet, fiery, and comfortable like his worn in pair of boxers. They connected, and not just sexually, but on a cosmic level almost. Sure, they could spend hours under the covers, but he had met many girls who could do the same. It would be an understatement to say she differed from the others. Kristin. Erin. Sarah. But it always came back to Morgan who, from the beginning, had never been afraid to argue with him. It didn�t seem to cross her mind that she had called the Apolo Anton Ohno a shit head more than once on occasion. And who else did he know that enjoyed penning poetry in the rain? He respected her for both.
But this is wrong. WRONG! And he knew it. He may have not been the smartest person in Seattle, but his father raised him to have morals. Besides, what would people think of him if this got out? Apolo Ohno nails his buddy for fun? Talk about a scandal, and he was notorious for them before. But wait. Why should I care what other people think? Apolo tapped his fingers on the dashboard, the hypnotic drumming echoing in the silent car. He was tired of being a puppet, a marionette for the public to toy with. He had never intended to jump when people told him to, and he sure as hell wasn�t planning to start. They managed to pull it off in high school and quite surprisingly, came out hands clean, records fresh, lives anew. This time around, they were three years older. Three years wiser. And for him, it had been three years too long.
Apolo swiftly turned the key in the ignition and hastily popped whatever he could find in the cd player. Track One. Usher. Thank god, that would help him clear his head on the drive over.
�You make me wanna leave the one I�m with/Start a new relationship with you�� he sang, his husky voice permeating the night air.
He backed out of the driveway and sped down the dimly illuminated street, the route embedded in the finest grooves of his brain. It was about time that he followed upon impulse, intuition, or his heart. He�d settle for which ever one came first.
* * *
Morgan pulled open her closet doors as she scanned over her small assortment of clothes. The cool wind danced at her bare back, causing a shiver to inch up her spine. She slowly reached for a pair of running shorts. What a night it had been. She smiled slyly. She was proud of herself to say the least; she spent an entire evening with Apolo and had resisted the urge to strip him of his own clothing. What made him so irresistible to her she would never know. But one thing was for sure: Morgan felt safe with him, something she had never experienced with any other guy that happened to waltz in her life. Just the presence of Apolo made her secure, like she could put her front aside for a moment and finally exhale all the built up emotions she kept bottled so tightly. Oh, what Morgan would give to be in those strong, sturdy, tan arms again. To nuzzle her cheek against his shoulder and soak up the scent of his cologne. Why hadn�t we given us a shot? Morgan pulled on the shorts and tightened the white, faded drawstring. The more time passed on, the more it perplexed her as to why they had never fallen in love. The tenderness, the caring, the passion, and the heart were all there, but there was always some component missing. Her attempts to find that missing piece frustrated her to no end. And in the meantime, she was locked between the present and past, lusting after a faint memory that would only disappear within a few weeks.