Runner's Dilemma

Chapter 1: The Board Game Night

Date: Monday, August 11th

Molly paused outside Gaby’s apartment building on the Lower East Side, adjusting the wine bottle in her tote bag and giving herself a final once-over in the reflective glass of the door. Her sweater was soft and snug, a pale cream that skimmed her waist and clung to the faint curves of her figure. The sleeves hugged her arms just right, and the neckline dipped slightly — flattering but modest. Her jeans, classic and high-waisted, framed the gentle flare of her hips and traced the long line of her legs down to clean white sneakers.

She had a runner’s body — still, mostly. Years of distance running had carved her thighs into smooth, defined muscle, though they’d lost some of their edge since college. Her stomach stayed flat beneath the sweater, but the sharp lines of definition had faded, and her hips had always been just a touch wide for her narrow upper body. It gave her a natural pear shape — athletic and curvy in a way she rarely noticed, unless she caught someone staring.

She took a breath, buzzed in, and climbed the stairs.

Inside, Gaby’s apartment was already alive with sound — laughter spilling down the hall, the low hum of music, and the clink of glasses on ceramic. Before Molly could knock, the door swung open. Gaby stood there with a grin, already waiting.

“Molly!” Gaby’s voice rang out — bright, affectionate, and unmistakably her. She swept her old roommate into a warm hug and tugged her inside. “Finally! You’re late. Come on — we’ve already started setting up, and I need you to meet someone.”

The scent of garlic and melted cheese wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the sweet, buttery smell of fresh-baked cookies. A teetering pile of board games leaned near the coffee table, and people were already sprawled across the couch and floor, drinks in hand.

“Who am I meeting?” Molly asked, slipping off her shoes and scanning the room.

Gaby smirked. “His name’s Alex. Nerdy, sweet, a little scruffy. I think he’s your type — even if you don’t know it yet.”

Across the room, a slim guy in a flannel shirt with slightly messy brown hair was bent over the table, arranging cards and small plastic cubes with focused precision. Gaby nudged her forward, steering her in his direction.

“Alex, meet Molly. Molly — Alex.”

He looked up and smiled — easy, unguarded. He wasn’t the type Molly usually went for, but there was something instantly disarming about him. His eyes were inviting. His voice, when he said hello, was low and gentle, touched with the faintest hint of nervous charm.

They sat down next to each other for the game — _Terraforming Mars_ — which Alex explained with quiet patience as he set up the board. Molly didn’t know all the rules, but she caught on fast. Their banter came easily, competitiveness bubbling into teasing jokes and dry jabs. When Alex playfully sabotaged her oxygen levels, she nudged his knee under the table. He grinned.

Over the next hour, the rhythm between them settled into something easy. Their chairs angled closer. Their hands brushed as they passed game pieces. Molly laughed more than she expected, the tension she’d walked in with slowly unraveling.

There was food — too much of it, in all the right ways. A half-eaten pizza box, bowls of chips scattered between beer bottles and wine glasses, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies still warm enough to leave her fingers sticky with melted chocolate. Molly snacked mindlessly, pulling pieces apart and licking the chocolate from her fingertips. Her appetite had always been healthy — part of being a runner, she told herself — and tonight, the cookies were just too good to resist.

At one point, as she leaned across the table to grab a slice of pizza, Alex murmured, “Easy — that’s the last one. I might have to fight you for it.”

She smirked. “Please. I could outrun you in my sleep.”

He chuckled. “No doubt. I’d probably faceplant before the first block.”

Later in the kitchen, while pouring wine, Gaby leaned in, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You two are _totally_ hitting it off.”

Molly rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed. “It’s just a game.”

Gaby raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been flirting with him all night.”

“I have _not_.”

“You totally have. And he’s cute.”

Molly didn’t answer. But a flicker of something — wistful, maybe hopeful — passed across her face.

As the party began to wind down — coats pulled from hooks, people calling rideshares — Alex appeared beside her and offered to walk her to the train. She hesitated for just a second, then nodded.

---

Outside, the city air was warm and thick with late-summer buzz. They strolled down quiet side streets, their conversation tumbling easily from TV shows to food to old college stories. Molly admitted her weakness for brunch and obscure French pastries. Alex confessed a soft spot for horror movies and cinnamon Toast Crunch.

“Balance,” he said with a crooked smile. “That’s what relationships are all about.”

“Already talking about relationships?” Molly teased, bumping his arm.

“Just hypothetically,” he replied, though the amusement lingered in his voice.

They reached the entrance to the Delancey Street station, the steps glowing under the amber wash of the streetlight. Molly turned to face him, her heart thudding with quiet anticipation.

Alex looked at her, eyes searching hers, lips slightly parted — like he was on the verge of saying something. Instead, he stepped in close and kissed her.

The kiss was soft at first — tentative, tasting of wine and desire — but deepened as she tilted her head slightly toward his. His hand brushed along her waist, just enough to send a shiver through the fabric of her sweater.

Her lips parted beneath his as she leaned into the kiss, hips pressing to his with subtle intent, her stomach fluttering, breath caught somewhere between surprise and heat.

When they finally pulled apart, she opened her eyes and saw the same astonishment reflected in his. Something tender bloomed in her chest — undeniable, and impossible to hide.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” she murmured.

Alex nodded, satisfaction settling over him like warmth. “Good.”

She boarded the F train back to Park Slope, found a seat, and let her fingers drift to her lips. Her stomach fluttered with a dizzying mix of wine, cookies, and that kiss. Eyes closed, she leaned back against the seat, still tasting him in the memory.

Alex walked home alone, hands tucked into his pockets, a grin tugging at his face as the night hummed quietly around him.

Neither of them knew exactly what had just begun. But something had. Something real. Something electric.

And neither could wait to find out where it would lead.