Read Online Time to Run by John Gilstrap - Free Book Online Page B

truth—the moment when he’d see what he’d gotten himself into. Stand and let me see you. Let me see how fat you really are. She stood hesitantly, sheepishly, her face so hot that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.
    â€œYou look terrific,” he said. “Even better than I’d imagined.”
    They stood there, looking at each other, neither knowing exactly what the next step should be. Brad made the move. He spread his arms wide, inviting a hug, and Nicki stepped closer. She moved haltingly, as if to keep from scaring him off, but when she was finally within reach, he enfolded her in a bear hug. Her face pressed against the muscles of his chest, still defined beneath the fabric of his T-shirt. He smelled . . . rugged. It wasn’t the aftershave smell that she’d come to associate with men she’d met through her father. This was the smell of a man who knew what real work was. Not flowery, but certainly not unpleasant. When he didn’t let go, she finally allowed herself to hug him back.
    He eased her back out to arm’s length, his hands still firmly on her shoulders. “God, it’s great to see you again. Was your trip okay?”
    â€œAs good as it could be, I suppose.”
    He laughed. “Too important to ride the bus, eh?”
    Nicki’s instinct was to be defensive, but something told her to hold off—that he wasn’t being critical.
    â€œAre you ready for your adventure?” he asked.
    Nicki made a face that said he was crazy. “You mean about who I want to pretend to be?”
    â€œThere’s no pretending to it. Who do you want to be?”
    Nicki waved him off. Surely, he hadn’t been serious about that. Real was real. What was the point of this?
    â€œCome on, now, tell me. Who do you want to be?”
    â€œThis is silly.”
    Brad shrugged. “Okay, it’s silly. Now, tell me.”
    â€œI want to be me.” Nicki wasn’t sure why this conversation made her feel uncomfortable.
    â€œBullshit”
    Nicki looked offended. “And what’s wrong with being me?”
    â€œNothing’s wrong with being you. I’m the one who’s been telling you that for the last four months. But it’s not about what I want; it’s about what you want. Now come on, humor me. Who do you want to be? It can be anybody at all, real or imagined, present or past.”
    â€œI’m not good at these kinds of games.” Nicki heard the whininess in her voice and it embarrassed her.
    Brad planted his fists on his hips and cocked his head to the side. It was a gesture of good-humored frustration. He gestured to the bench and they sat down again. He tried to look at her, but Nicki couldn’t tolerate the heat of his eyes. “Hey,” he said. His voice was much softer now. Gentle, even. “Work with me here. This is supposed to be your escape.”
    Inexplicably, Nicki found herself close to tears. “I’m here,” she said.
    Brad laughed again. “Your body is here. Now, let your mind escape, too. Dream a little. Who do you want to be?”
    The whole concept was just so foreign to her. The urge to cry grew stronger. She didn’t know how to play this kind of game.
    â€œCome on, Nicki,” Brad urged. “Just this one time, loosen up. Give me a name.”
    Nicki sighed. He wasn’t going to cut her a break. Brad Ward in person was exactly the same as Brad Ward on the computer: kind, always understanding, but never giving an inch. Not on the important stuff, not on the stuff that he wanted for her. “Okay,” she said, finally surrendering to the ridiculous notion. “I want to go to a prom.”
    Brad beamed. “Perfect,” he said.
    â€œPerfect for what?”
    â€œPerfect for both of us.”
    Nicki was confused.
    â€œI get to be prom king.”
    Nicki loved the way his mind could just jump around like that, asking questions one second and then making