However Do You Want Me... || Chenford / The Rookie

Part 16

When Tim asks Lucy to join him for a run the next morning, she agrees — partially because she knows the training is a necessary evil if she doesn't want to be blamed for slowing them down in future challenges, and partially because it seems as good a way as any to cover for the fact that all she really wants to do is avoid him.

Her head is still a muddled mess from the night prior, her heart unsure of what to do with the tangle of conflicting emotion she is feeling towards him. So it's simple enough — go on the run and also avoid an accusation of avoidance (from Tim or from the judgy little voice in the back of her head) when she steers clear as much as possible for the remainder of the day.

Unfortunately, Tim, of all people, does not seem to have gotten the memo that running should be a silent activity, that oxygen should be conserved for the misery of cardio after an evening of late-night drunkenness. "I think maybe we need to stop."

Lucy slows to a stop, grateful for the suggested reprieve after two and a half miles of torture, hands dropping to her knees as she works to catch her breath.

Tim's face is confused when Lucy finally glances back up at him. "Oh — I didn't mean... Never mind. Look. I think we need to stop this," he gestures between them, "What we've been doing..." He trails off when he sees the flash of irritation in Lucy's eyes.

She huffs an exhale of both exertion and frustration. "Seriously?" she asks as she stands up to meet his eyes. "Is there anything more Tim Bradford than thinking a run is the right time to have this conversation?"

He shrugs helplessly, "I just thought... it'd be better away from the house, the cameras."

Lucy rolls her eyes, shaking her head before shrugging back, "Okay. If that's what you want."

Tim stares at her in disbelief. "After everything—" his voice breaks and he swallows before continuing, "You seriously think this has anything to do with what I want?"

And he's looking at her with so much earnestness, so much vulnerability, that Lucy is momentarily overwhelmed by the well of emotion she feels towards him in her chest, a pull so strong it terrifies her. She shakes her head, hating the warmth that is pooling behind her eyes. "I don't — I don't know what to think..." she manages to choke out.

A brief flicker of hurt flashes in his eyes before Tim runs a hand over his face.  "This isn't about what I want, Lucy. It's about why we started doing this to begin with. So we could win. And set the record straight. And go back to our lives and our careers as we left them. But now... I just — what are we even doing? Hooking up to win a stupid competition all so we can prove that we didn't hook up?"

Lucy bristles, "Well it sounds pretty stupid when you put it like that."

"That's not — I don't think it was stupid, Lucy, but —"

Lucy sighs, knowing he's right, that what they've been doing is so upside down and backward it stopped making sense almost as soon as it had started. But the knowledge doesn't make the idea of stopping, of going back to the way things used to be between them, hurt any less. "You're right," she finally says. "Guess we're officially on the same level as our competition now, anyway," she forces a laugh, "A couple of random hookups and an awkward breakup."

Tim winces, hating that she'd describe any of what had happened between them as random, hating the sadness in her voice and reflecting in her eyes, despite her attempt to deflect with humor.

"Lucy," he says softly, but he's not sure what else to say. What is there to say? The whole point of any of this was to make sure people didn't get the wrong impression about their relationship — to avoid the nasty implications those types of impressions would create for them both.

Lucy just nods, taking a step back from him, and her voice is thick as she chokes out her next words, "I — uh, I think I just need a little bit of space."

And it takes every bit of his willpower not to run after her as she turns away from him and begins walking back the way they had come; not to pull her into his arms and reassure her that everything is going to be okay, that they'll figure something out, find a way to make it work.

***

She isn't mad at him; how could she be? She's mad at herself for getting so carried away with this craziness, for thinking that what they were doing in their little reality TV bubble wouldn't have broader real life consequences, and most of all for letting herself fall completely head over heels in love with Tim Bradford.

Because there's no other way to explain why she feels like a part of her is dying inside, like she might puke her guts out at any moment, like she's been hit by a freight train of grief over something she never even really had at all.

She'd been careful to stay in the moment, to concentrate on the present and not get carried away with fantasies of anything more with Tim, of any type of relationship between them. She thought that would have been enough. Enough to keep the physical pleasure separate and apart from any kind of emotional connection.

But she had clearly underestimated the depth of her feelings for Tim before any of this had even started — the physicality of what they'd been exploring here twisting and winding its way through until firmly attached to the well of emotion associated with Tim Bradford she had been downright delusional to discount.