The Merger – 9

Mike watched as Josh walked across the park to join him, admiring his lean build, which showed to his advantage in the tank top and running shorts he was wearing. "Beat you," Mike quipped when Josh joined him at the edge of the path.

"Maybe getting here, but just wait." Josh grinned, slapping Mike's shoulder. "Warm-ups first, though."

"Always," Mike agreed—and they did. As Josh went through his routine, Mike found his gaze going to Josh's tight ass more than once. Stop, he cautioned himself. We're here to run. This isn't a prelude to a seduction. Not that he'd go along with it if I tried, which I won't. He's not my type, to begin with. That didn't stop him from appraising Josh's body the way he might some man at a bar or club.

"Ready?" Josh asked, stepping onto the path.

"Whenever you are."

They started out at a slow lope. It didn't take long before they sped up, running side by side down the path. Then Josh, with a devilish grin, increased his speed. Mike matched him step for step—at first—but Josh slowly pulled ahead.

Oh no, you don't. Mike figured with his longer legs, it would take no time at all for him to catch up. In that, he was sadly disappointed. Josh widened the distance between them.

A picnic table marked the beginning of the end for Mike. He rested one hand on it, panting for breath, vowing he'd catch up with Josh if it killed him, then took off again. At that point, Josh was out of sight around a curve in the path. When Mike got to it, legs aching, he saw Josh leaning against a tree, a wide smile on his face. He didn't even look winded.

"Ready to call it a day?" Josh asked.

Mike almost said he wasn't, then reconsidered. "Yes. But next time—"

"Next time, I'll give you a head start." Josh winked.

"Not even," Mike grumbled. Then, with no small amount of admiration, he said, "You're damned good."

"Practice. Lots of it. Now if we competed in the gym on some of the machines they've got there, you'd beat me hands down. My idea of lifting weights is picking up a heavy dictionary."

"I told you yesterday, gyms aren't my thing." Mike chuckled when Josh blatantly looked at what Mike knew were his muscular arms and chest. "I'm a mesomorph." He eyed Josh, wondering if he knew what that was.

"I figured as much. Me? I'm ectomorphic, which is the ideal for a runner." Josh grinned. "Remember, I read everything I can get my hands on, so you didn't stump me. Your musculature makes you an obvious mesomorph. On the other hand, I'm lean…thus an obvious ectomorph."

"Should have figured you'd know the difference."

Josh laughed then said, "Are you ready to head back?"

"Yes, but we jog. I don't think I can flat-out run at this point."

Josh nodded. "Honestly, I'm with you on that. I was showing off and I'm feeling it now."

"It's nice to know you have it in you to do that," Mike said as they started back up the path. "Showing off, I mean."

"I'm not a cold fish," Josh protested.

"Oh, I know. You're just not exactly the outgoing, bragging type, either. Not the kind of person I'd expect would show off—and admit it."

"You'll learn," Josh replied. "I have a competitive streak—occasionally."

When they returned to the park where they'd started, Mike asked, "Did you eat breakfast?"

"No. Why?"

"Me neither, so why don't we stop and get some?"

"All hot, sweaty, and dressed like this?" Josh moved his hand up and down.

"Good point. Let's go home, shower and change, then meet somewhere. That is, if you want to."

"I'm good with it."

By the time they got to their cars, they'd decided on a place. "I'll see you in half an hour, give or take," Mike said.