There are some things that Karlie does that confuse Taylor. She doesn’t understand the desire to wake up early or to eat only vegetables. Most of all, she doesn’t understand Karlie’s need to run. Four days a week, without fail, Taylor wakes up to an empty bed and a note about when to expect Karlie to be home. Sometimes, Taylor will do her best to keep Karlie in bed with her, glom onto her girlfriend when the initial alarm goes off at a time that is way too early, and make Karlie move her dead weight.
Usually, she receives forehead kisses and a gentle, but firm, shove; palm on her forehead and fingers smushing into her face. This morning is no different.
The alarm goes off – 6:30am because apparently all the best running is done before a reasonable hour – and Taylor pretends not to hear it. She’s curled up into Karlie’s side, half-awake because her stupid brain woke her up with song ideas an hour ago, but for the last few minutes, she was so close to falling back asleep.
“Nooooo,” she moans when Karlie starts to move underneath her.
“Yessssssss,” Karlie says.
“Jus’ got you back though.”
The chest under her head jostles with a laugh and damn, Taylor loves when Karlie laughs.
“It’s a short one today. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”
Taylor props herself up on an elbow to look Karlie square in the face. “That’s too long without you.”
Karlie hums in agreement and Taylor immediately plops back down onto Karlie’s chest as soon as she starts trying to get out of bed. She gets a palm to the face for her troubles. Resigned, Taylor pulls the blankets back up to her shoulders as soon as Karlie’s out of bed. She closes her eyes, trying to find her way back to that almost-asleep state, and just listens as Karlie gets dressed for her run.
“Oh fuck, ouch,” gets muttered from the closet.
“You good?” She asks Karlie. It’s comes out more of a “oo g’?”
“Shoulda turned on a light.”
There’s some movement, and then lips press to her forehead and Karlie’s off with an “I love you, go back to sleep.”
Taylor curls up on Karlie’s side of the bed, buries her head in Karlie’s pillow, and is out like a light.
-
The shower is running when Taylor wakes up again. When her eyes open, the curtains have been pulled back just the slightest, letting the sun in and creating a little sunspot for the cats to settle just outside the bathroom door. Benji sits there, nestled on his tiny side with his head resting against the frame of the door. If they leave the door open, he ends up in the shower with them, his little nose pushing at the shower door and then sneaking in and under the spray before he’s caught. It’s been an adjustment, having to shower with the door closed since they brought him home, but Taylor hopes that as he gets older, he’ll learn boundaries.
When she glances at her phone, she lets out a sigh. Karlie was right, this wasn’t a long run, and it means she’s awake before the hour of 8am, which is still far too early. But she doesn’t have anything on the schedule until after lunch, when she has a couple label meetings, so there’s plenty of time to lure Karlie back into bed to sleep until lunch.
She slides out of the blankets, doing her best not to displace them too much so the residual body heat doesn’t escape, and pads across the room to the bathroom. Careful not to step on Benji, she cracks the door open just enough to slide in without letting the cat in. Karlie must’ve just gotten home because the mirror hasn’t had a chance to fog up with the heat yet. There’s a pile of sweaty clothes in one corner and Karlie’s running water bottle has landed in the sink.
“Good run?” She asks as she steps into the shower behind Karlie. It’s getting colder outside, fall steadily working its way to winter, and Karlie’s skin is cold to the touch when Taylor runs her fingers along Karlie’s shoulders.
“Mm, sort of. There’s new construction on 5th so I had to go up into the park.”
“Did you take Drew with you?”
Taylor knows how hard it is for Karlie to run with company, but she lets out a sigh of relief when Karlie nods. “Thank you,” she says as she turns Karlie around with her hands so she can get shampoo into Karlie’s hair.
Karlie’s skin is still red from the cold and Taylor doesn’t know how her girlfriend does it; she’d gotten cold just in the eight or so steps it took to cross the tiles in the bathroom. She rests a hand against Karlie’s ribs, fingertips following the suds as they wash out of Karlie’s hair, able to feel the heave of Karlie’s lungs and the slowing beat of Karlie’s heart.
She pays careful attention to how Karlie stands in the shower, taking note of the way her girlfriend shifts from foot to foot, looking for any hints of soreness. With her fingers running over Karlie’s body, she can feel the pockets of muscles that refuse to relax, the beginning stages of knots forming. As the steam builds, Taylor maps out a path of muscles to hit with her fingers before she lets Karlie head off to work.
“How far did you end up going?” She asks as they’re drying off next to each other.
“Mm, little over eight miles? Wasn’t really keeping track since it’s just a recovery run.”
The concept of a “recovery run” used to be so foreign to Taylor. Before she started dating Karlie, Taylor had no idea about training for a marathon. Now, she knows what kind of chews Karlie eats at each hydration interval and her girlfriends’ preferred routes through the city. She knows the different paces Karlie can keep and how fast a recovery run actually is compared to a training run.
**
Taylor never expected to be here, bundled up in the cold with a sign in her hands, waiting for her girlfriend to run by. They’d decided on mile thirteen, in part because it’s Taylor’s lucky number, but mostly because it’s the halfway point, but there were so many people that Jeremy had turned the car towards the Queensboro Bridge for mile fourteen. Brandon stands beside her, head on a swivel and one hand resting on the small of her back making sure they don’t get separated in this crowd.
“Drew says they just passed mile eleven,” he says in her ear, breath warm against her cold cheek.
There are hundreds of runners on the street, some looking more gassed than others, and they’ve already seen the professional group go by, but still, Taylor wonders how she’s going to find her girlfriend in the sea of runners who’ve taken to the streets of New York. By her estimate, Karlie should run by them in fifteen-ish minutes, so she takes the time to make sure she has her camera set up with the right settings to get a good video of her girlfriend. She keeps her head down, one hand on the bill of her baseball cap to make sure it doesn’t fall off in the wind coming off the water and waits.
Spectators aren’t allowed on the bridge, for which Taylor is grateful because she doesn’t actually want to jump off it, despite what she’d told Karlie this morning before they left the house. “It’s the ass crack of dawn, Kar. I’m gonna jump off the bridge out of boredom.” No, instead, she and Brandon have been watching the boats go up and down the river, watching as the world keeps going on around them.
Around her, the crowd cheers as another group of runners goes by. There’s been a steady rotation of people as the morning goes on. First had been those cheering on the professional runners, then those whose runners could hold a ridiculously quick pace for the whole marathon. Karlie isn’t quite good enough to qualify for professional race times, but she’s no slouch either.
According to Karlie’s running tracker, they’ve been averaging eleven and a half minutes per mile for the last few weeks, and when Taylor pulls up the little tracking app on her phone, it seems they’re on the same pace today. It’s a nifty little app that shows Karlie’s progress in real time as she progresses through the course. She watches as the course line progress, highlighted by their practice runs, and she watches as Karlie turns the last little corner before the straightaway towards the bridge.
“Can you film? You’re taller,” Taylor asks Brandon as they start to move through the crowd to get closer to the front. They won’t push all the way through, both taller than average, but Taylor wants Karlie to be able to see her sign. It’s completely dorky and easily one of her favorite works of art she’s done. She’d hidden it from Karlie so the reaction will be pure, and Taylor doesn’t want to worry about filming and making sure she holds it up correctly.
It’s the only time Brandon has agreed to let Taylor be more than a few steps away from him the whole afternoon. They don’t have to wait long until they can see Karlie and Drew – two six foot plus runners, Karlie wearing a rainbow hat and Drew right beside her in stalwart black. Taylor beams when she sees Karlie, smile growing into laughter as her girlfriend gets closer and closer, and it takes everything in her to keep the sign in her hands steady.
”You’re feeling 26.2!” a dumb little pun that she’d spent longer than she’d like to admit thinking about; the 6 is smaller than the 2’s, so from afar, the sign looks like she’s quoting her own lyrics. There are little party hats and running shoes that Taylor’d carefully drawn in different color Sharpie, and she can’t wait for Karlie to see it. But what she’s more excited for is what’s on the other side of the sign and the little box buried in her coat pocket.
She locks eyes with Karlie, and she can see the moment her girlfriend reads the sign. Karlie stumbles one or two steps, Drew shooting his arm out to make sure she doesn’t fall, and then the sound of Karlie’s laugh hits Taylor’s ears. Her girlfriend brings her hands together and does an awkward little trot as she shoots Taylor heart hands, but then Karlie turns back and focuses on her run.
Brandon is at her side instantly, hand around Taylor’s elbow and pulling her away from the crowd before anybody notices she’s here. They weave their way out of the crowd and walk over a few streets to where Jeremy is waiting with the car to take them to the end. According to Karlie’s pace, they still have another hour, so Jeremy takes them to the planned breakfast taco spot to wait for Karlie and Drew to get closer to the finish line.
Ideally, Taylor would like to be able to wait at the finish line for her girlfriend, but that’s not possible with who they are – Karlie had registered for the race using her middle name just in case – so Taylor sits in the back of the car with her breakfast tacos and watches Karlie’s little icon on the tracking app. It’s barely 10:30 and she’s been up since way before the crack of dawn so she dumps more hot sauce on her tacos than normal hoping that it will keep her awake since coffee doesn’t work for her anymore.
“Are you sure I can’t wait for her at the line?” Taylor asks one more time as Karlie’s little runner icon gets closer and closer to mile 26.
“Sorry, Tay. Tree says the internet knows Karlie’s running and people are starting to realize that you’re here too.” Brandon doesn’t sound apologetic, but Taylor knows him; she knows that he knows how much she wanted to be able to catch Karlie at the end of this. Instead, she’ll have to wait for Karlie closer to home; she won’t be able to wrap her up in a hug full of pride.
She whips out her phone as soon as Brandon has her back in the car, typing furiously as she tries to get her point across to Tree.
Why couldn’t I wait for her? struck out, too whiny.
We’re not in the closet, I would’ve been fine deleted, too petulant.
This was supposed to be the special moment, she settles on. Immediately, her phone screen changes, and Tree’s face fills the whole screen. Taylor swipes to accept the call but she refuses to acknowledge Tree ruining her plans.
“Taylor, do you really want your proposal to be in front of millions of people?” Tree asks as soon as the call connects.
No, but she wants it to be special and perfect and the best day of her life and don’t athletes propose to their partners after winning the Olympics? Why can’t she propose to Karlie as she finishes running the New York Marathon? It’s a huge accomplishment.
She doesn’t say any of this, of course, because she knows that Tree is right, and she doesn’t want her proposal to her girlfriend caught on somebody’s camera and spread across the internet like a wildfire despite what she wants in this moment. To keep from arguing, she silences her words by chewing on her knuckle.
On the other end of the line Taylor can hear a sigh, the kind that usually proceeds some sagely wisdom from her publicist that’s got twenty years on her and a relationship of her own that’s been successful for practically as long as Taylor’s been alive.
“Look, I know you want it to be special, and it will be, especially if you do it privately. This is a moment for just the two of you, not the whole world. Why don’t I send some of the guys over to set a little something up at the house? You can do it there?”
There’s an idea brewing in her mind, one that seems like it will work, so she declines Tree’s offer.
“No, I have an idea. Can you have one of the guys load up the tub with ice though? It’ll be step one. If she says ‘no’ I’m blaming you.” Taylor threatens.
“Taylor,” Tree has her serious voice on, the voice that she only ever uses when Taylor’s being ridiculous, “Karlie won’t say ‘no.’ She loves you.” A pause and Taylor can hear the click of Tree’s nails against the screen before there’s a confirmation of ice being delivered to the house. “Good luck, Tay.”
When she finally looks up from her lap, she notices Brandon’s driven them a little further into the park, just passed the finish line, and Taylor suddenly can’t wait for Karlie to be done. She’ll carry Karlie into the house – fuck the fact that Karlie routinely runs over ten miles, and her legs won’t suffer at all from this marathon – and while Karlie is in the middle of her recovery ice bath, she shudders at the thought of climbing into a tub of ice, Taylor will make her protein waffles.
The little app on her phone with Karlie’s location on it triggers a banner on her phone, a little “26.2 miles” with a confetti emoji to celebrate the end of the workout. Her blood starts pumping at the thought of seeing Karlie shortly and she can feel the smile spreading across her face.
She’s practically bouncing in the back of the car when she sees Karlie and Drew walking down the road to the car and not even Brandon can keep her in the car. The cold air hits her like a wall, she took off her coat in the car, but she doesn’t feel it as she runs over to Karlie and wraps her girlfriend up in a hug.
“Congratulations!” She yells in Karlie’s ear. Long arms wrap around her waist and squeeze. Taylor pulls back just enough to sneak a kiss and then she’s peppering kisses all over Karlie’s face. “I’m so proud of you!”
Karlie practically melts in her arms, legs nearly giving out now that Taylor is there to support her. Her girlfriend is still breathing hard, breath hitting Taylor’s neck in speedy little pants that Taylor usually associates with a post-orgasm Karlie. The thought has her mind drifting, but Karlie pulling back from her hug brings her back to reality.
“Do you have my water?” She asks.
Taylor spins around, hand grabbing Karlie’s, and pulls her girlfriend back to the car. In the backseat is the post-race kit that Karlie had spent last night packing. Fruit chews, a protein bar, electrolytes in four different flavors, and a Nutella and banana sandwich. Taylor crawls back into the car, carefully handing Karlie items as they’re requested, and she watches with pride in her eyes as Karlie walks back and forth, slowly cooling down before she starts stretching.
She and Drew move in sync, and Taylor takes the moment to appreciate this dance they do. They walk the length of the car, stretching out their legs and arms in different ways with each lap. Eventually, they get to a point in their routine where Karlie sits on the asphalt and unties her shoes. Taylor’s more familiar with this part of Karlie’s post-run routine because Karlie usually does this in the courtyard behind their apartment.
Up on tippy toes, Karlie walks back and forth, not letting her heels touch the ground, and then she switches, walking only on her heels with her toes flexed. In this moment, Taylor takes the time to appreciate the long lines of her girlfriend. Even in her running leggings, each muscle is defined – if helped a little by Taylor’s memory.
Eventually, Karlie and Drew finish their routine and join her and Brandon in the car and then they’re off, back to the apartment for further recovery. The streets are crowded, rerouted traffic infringing on only a few streets of Manhattan, so Taylor plays with Karlie’s fingers as her girlfriend dutifully drinks her electrolytes.
As promised – to herself, but still – Taylor is the first one out of the car and demanding Karlie climb onto her back so she can carry her into the house and up the stairs to the bathroom. Just like she asked, bags of ice have been delivered, and she flips on the cold tap as Karlie works her way out of her sweaty clothes.
“No chance you’ll join me in the bath?” Karlie asks, a smirk on her face, as she dumps one of the bags of ice into the tub.
“Not until the temperature is above freezing, no.” She sits with Karlie anyway, timer on her phone set to five minutes so she knows when to pull Karlie out of the ice bath. When Karlie gets settled, she reaches a hand out, reaches for Taylor, and Taylor is quick to grasp her hand. They don’t talk, not while Karlie is focused on relaxing her body in the cold, and Taylor is content to watch.
It’s not often that she gets to see Karlie like this: completely depleted and wrung out. Now that her girlfriend has reduced her fashion schedule to only a few shows here and there, Taylor doesn’t really get to take care of Karlie like this. Normally, when Karlie comes home exhausted, it’s because she’s been working non-stop on Kode with Klossy or working with the various non-profits she partners with.
Carefully, Taylor leans over to drop a kiss on Karlie’s forehead. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Kar.” She says. A ghost of a smile lights up Karlie’s face when Taylor pulls back.
The timer goes off, the annoying beeping breaking the moment, and Taylor reaches over to shut it off as Karlie climbs out of the tub and moves to the shower. Taylor will join her for this, and as soon as she’s out of her clothes, she’s stepping in behind Karlie and letting out a sigh at the warm water.
She maneuvers her way around Karlie to grab the shampoo and her wet comb. With her tools in hand, she gently pushes Karlie to where she wants her before biting the backbone of the comb and working up a foam of shampoo in her hands. Starting at the roots, Taylor makes sure to work shampoo in deeply, applying a light pressure to Karlie’s scalp as she runs wet strands of long hair through her fingers. Carefully, so she doesn’t get shampoo in her mouth, Taylor grabs the comb and works it through Karlie’s hair from the ends up, making sure not to pull too hard as she detangles.
Her fingers are practically prunes by the time she drags Karlie out of the shower. She helps Karlie dry off before leading her to the bedroom where she’s set out the massage oils and the Theragun to work out the last of the tense muscles from Karlie’s run.
“I freaking love you,” Karlie moans as Taylor starts working her hands down Karlie’s back towards her hips. She lets out a small chuckle, digging her knuckles into the knot of muscles that build in Karlie’s hips from long runs.
“Love you too.”
Silence surrounds them, Taylor listening to Karlie’s breathing while she gives her girlfriend a massage, working down the back of her hamstrings all the way to her toes. There’s a lot to cover given how tall her girlfriend is, and by the time Taylor finds herself finished, Karlie’s fallen asleep, ass naked and hair still wet from the shower. A brief thought flashes through her mind, something about Tree being right about not proposing in front of other people, which is quickly followed by excitement.
She’s so excited to propose, and as she washes the body oil off her hands in the bathroom, she practices schooling her face into something more normal and less cheshire grin so she doesn’t give things away when Karlie wakes up.
For now, she climbs back into bed next to her girlfriend and watches her nap. Karlie’s face is completely relaxed, her lips parted just slightly as she breathes, and Taylor can’t help herself. She leans in to press a kiss to Karlie’s cheek before rolling over to grab her book. She’ll wake Karlie up in a few hours if her girlfriend doesn’t show any signs of waking herself, and they’ll have a brunch of protein waffles and fruit, and in the middle of the table, next to the bouquet of celebratory post-marathon flowers, Taylor will leave the ring box.
Or maybe, just maybe, Taylor will propose as soon as Karlie’s awake, too excited to keep it in any longer.