See You at the Finish Line (Run, Love, Repeat #1)

9. Paige

Base Camp 29.08 mi/ 46.8 km

This rain sucks. This rain sucks balls. This rain sucks hairy, overgrown, saggy balls. I trudge through the mud, trying like hell not to have a mental breakdown as I attempt to find my way back to the path.

Just as I was almost at the bottom of Jacob’s Ladder the ground gave way to rocks loosened by the rain. I stumbled on those loose rocks and slipped off the path, on my ass, all the way to the bottom—the bottom of the wrong damn side of the stupid cliff.

I tried hiking back up the way I slid but it was impossible. My feet couldn’t find purchase. My phone wasn’t working because of the storm, so I did what any irrational, insane person would do and tried to find my way back to the path on my own. I headed in the direction I thought we were going, the creased map I printed out nearly unreadable thanks to the rain.

“I’m so sick of this. I fucking hate running. I never want to see another stupid trail ever again,” I mutter to myself as I try, yet again, not to fall on my ass. I am not successful .

Checking my GPS watch for the millionth time, I try to temper my emotions. It’s still not updating. How close am I to the course? I should have listened to Sadie when she told me to laminate the map. I didn’t want the extra bulk. It was a backup anyway since the CalTopo app should be working, even this far into the backcountry. But it will only update if my damn phone turns on.

“Stupid fucking rain. Stupid fucking ultra-race with its stupid fucking course.” Good thing no one is around to listen to my deranged ramblings.

And at least I didn’t get hurt beyond a few scrapes and bruises. That would have been seriously dangerous, as opposed to the regular danger of being lost in the desert. Thinking back to the ten commandments from the start of the race, I roll my eyes. I didn’t even try to follow Moses.

“AHHHHHHHH!” I let out a scream. The desert swallows it whole, not even echoing it back to me. I resist the urge to kick something. My poor feet would never forgive me.

I stomp forward, using my poles to help me navigate the slick terrain in a futile attempt to stop myself from falling. Picking up my pace as I round the bend I’ve been aiming for for the last twenty minutes, I realize the race gods do actually hate me—I’m greeted by a fork in the barely visible path.

“SERIOUSLY?!” I yell again. “Uuuuuuuugh!”

“PAIGE?” a male voice I don’t quite recognize calls from the left. I scamper down the rock towards the sound of my name.

“Paige!” he calls again, closer this time.

“Hello?” I answer .

“Paige!” His relief is so evident it brings a smile to my face, and suddenly I know exactly who it is.

“Stalker?” I yell the only name I have for him, trying to keep my footing in my haste to be found.

“I’m here!” he calls back. The sound of his footsteps reaches me before I turn the next corner.

We crash into each other, and he catches me before I fall from the ricochet. His hands come to hold me up by my elbows. I instinctively flex my hand on his bicep, causing him to raise his eyebrows. When did his muscles get so big? Runners aren’t usually very beefy, but dang. These really shouldn’t be my first thoughts after being rescued but I can’t help it.

“You’re doing too much cross-training,” I tell him, stupidly saying the first thing that comes to my mind. He laughs and then pulls me into an unexpected hug. Unexpected but so appreciated.

I melt into him as tears start to flow and my body begins shaking uncontrollably. Fear courses through my body and I finally allow myself to feel it, not caring that I’m being comforted by a complete stranger.

“It’s okay, let it out,” he whispers. My chest heaves, and I suck in a big breath, clinging to him.

“I fell,” I say between sobs.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, pulling back enough so he can look at me. He pushes some stray hairs away from my face and his fingers gently brush the side of my cheek. I swear that touch sends tingles down to my toes. It’s probably the relief at being found. And the adrenaline of being lost. Ultras really mess with emotions .

“Does my pride count?” I attempt to joke but my voice is so feeble.

He laughs softly. “Of course. A wounded pride can be fatal.”

“Then I might not make it.”

“I think I can give your ego a boost. You look very sexy covered in mud,” he blurts out and I laugh, feeling some of the shakiness leave my body.

His face scrunches in an adorable wince. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” He steps away from me like he realizes we just met and don’t know each other’s names. Although I guess he found out mine.

“It’s only inappropriate because I don’t know your name.”

He looks relieved and reaches out a hand.

“Hello, I’m Adam.” His smile makes the rainy day brighter.

Adam.

It suits him. I take his large hand in mine and he gives it a squeeze. In the brief second before he takes his hand away, I pull him back into a hug and bury my head in his chest. His big muscular chest, where his heart races.

“Thank you for rescuing me, Adam.”

He holds me tighter, releasing a deep breath. I can feel his pounding heart begin to slow beneath my cheek.

“Thank you for not being more lost,” he whispers. Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Or dead.”

The sound that leaves me is half hysterical laugh and half sob. I take a few deep breaths, matching mine to his. Maybe it’s weird I’m taking so much comfort in this stranger, but I tell myself it’s because he found me and I’m so grateful. Not at all because his chest feels like a dream.

“I will stand here for as long as you need, but you should be warned that I snuck out of the aid station to come get you, and the volunteer who let me go gave me a time limit,” he says hesitantly.

“How long?”

“She gave me two hours.”

I sigh and steal one more second of his arms around me, breathing in the feeling of safety one last time before letting go. He doesn’t release me immediately, but his hands move to grip my arms when he pulls away, dipping his head low to look at me.

“Are you sure you’re okay to keep going?” he asks, his blue eyes reaching the deepest parts of my soul.

I inhale through my nose. “Yes.” I nod.

“Okay then, let’s go.”

We trudge back the way he came and make our way to the correct path. I was closer than I thought, but I don’t know if I would’ve found it without Adam. I send a prayer up to heaven, thanking the race gods for sending him to me. And apologizing for all the cursing and vows of never running again.

“How much time do we have left?” I ask, breaking the comfortable silence as Adam helps me up and over some large rocks. The rain stopped a while ago but the ground is still slick. He glances at his watch.

“We have about forty-five minutes. But we’re pretty close—we’ve got time. I was taking it slow on my way here so I wouldn’t miss you.”

“Will you get in trouble?”

“I don’t think so. Lucy said she wouldn’t tell anyone if I was back on time.”

“Lucy?” Is that a tiny little seed of jealousy I feel? It can’t be, I don’t know this man. Stupid race messing with my feelings.

Maybe he can see the ridiculous emotion on my face because he adds, “She’s the volunteer whose clipboard I snatched to erase my name from the checked-in list. And the one who said she’d give me two hours to get you.” A small smile plays at the corner of his lips.

The desert opens, rewarding us with the sight of the aid station ahead. Now that’s a gift I know any runner would love to receive. We pick up our pace, incentivized by the allure of fresh clothes, food, and shade. I would cry if it wouldn’t use up too much of my energy and hydration.

“What’s that smile for?” I ask as we approach.

He shrugs. “It’s for you.”

Is this man real? Like actually for real in real life? I mean, what a line. I pinch him.

“Ow!” He grabs the back of his arm and shoots me a dirty look, though that small smile is still there. “What was that for?”

“Just checking to make sure you’re real and I haven’t suffered brain damage or hit the point in the race where I start hallucinating.”

Our breathing picks up as we race against the clock to get back in time. The sun reaches its hottest point, the air thick with humidity, but we push through. I do not want to be the reason he gets disqualified.

“Did you hit your head?” he asks .

“No, why?”

“You said you’re worried about suffering brain damage.”

“That was a joke, Adam.”

“Okay, good. In that case ...” He pinches my arm.

“Ow!”

“Serves you right. First, if I was a figment of your imagination, the trick is to have someone else pinch you, not pinch the potential hallucination. And second, we’re nowhere near the point of delirium in this race yet.”

“Smartass.” I nudge him with my elbow and his smile grows.

We finally make it to the check-in point and call out our bib numbers.

“145!” I exclaim, rushing through.

“128,” Adam says, right on my heels. A cute blond woman comes over and starts fussing over Adam.

“Cutting it kinda close there. You only had fifteen minutes left!” she says as he leans over to brace his hands on his knees. I move closer, placing a hand on his back and patting him awkwardly. He whips his head towards me, that smile back on his mouth. Damn, I have to stop noticing his mouth. I turn my attention back to Lucy.

“Thank you for letting him come after me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t found me,” I say earnestly. Realizing this is probably too much touching for people who just met, I remove my hand from Adam’s back as he stands up.

Damn, the adrenaline of this race really is getting to me. I don’t normally go around touching people. When I step back, Adam doesn’t let me go far. He leans into me, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

“You would’ve found your way.” I look up to find him staring at me with complete sincerity.

“Then why did you come back?” I say, brow raised.

“So that I could get the credit.” His smile widens and we burst out laughing together, hysterical sounds spewing from my mouth as the whole situation dawns on me.

Holy shit, I could have died out there. This man saved my life. Lucy’s eyes ping-pong between us and she sighs a little before walking away.

We collect ourselves as the endorphins cool off, only the occasional spurt of laughter bubbling up. Adam keeps his arm around me, steering us towards the water station. We sit side by side under the tent canopy as the heat from the day swells with the moisture from the rain. At least with the humidity, the trail won’t be as dusty.

“If you need to get going, I totally understand,” I tell him. Leah would be proud of my impulse control. Or pissed I wasted a golden opportunity to invite him to race with me.

“Are you kidding? I need this rest as much as you do.”

“Okay, just know I don’t expect you to wait for me or slow down because of me.”

Adam stares at me, his expression unreadable. Not that I know him well enough yet to read his expressions.

“Do you want me to go?” he asks quietly, breaking our eye contact to look down at his hands.

“What? No! I don’t want to ruin the race for you. ”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to think I’m actually stalking you.” When he looks at me, the mask falls, apology written all over his face. Bless this man.

“Adam, I fully welcome your stalking. Stalk me all you want. Stalk all over me.” I feel my eyes widen when my brain catches up to my mouth. So much for impulse control. “I didn’t mean for that to come out dirty.” That’s a lie. I’m definitely having dirty thoughts.

He laughs, but still looks unsure.

“Paige . . .”

“I’m serious, Adam. If you want to stick with me, I have no problem with that. I wanted to make sure you knew that I don’t expect you to, and I won’t hold it against you if you want to go on without me.”

“I don’t,” he answers quickly. “Want to go on without you,” he clarifies.

“Okay then.” I beam at him. “Just know that if you do—”

“You won’t hold it against me, chase me down, and murder me. Got it.”

I laugh again, the tightness in my chest easing as he relaxes back in his chair. He closes his eyes, and I take the time to really look at him. How is this man single? Even covered in a day’s worth of sweat and mud, he’s gorgeous. His long legs crossed in front of him showcase strong thighs and defined calves. His folded arms stretch over a wide chest, and I remember the feel of being nestled against it. God, he felt good. I close my eyes and smile.

“What’s that smile for?” he asks. He must have opened his eyes.

“It’s for you.”