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

25. Paige

“Shay said what?” Leah’s shriek through the phone hurts my ear. I’m surprised it doesn’t wake Levi.

“You heard me.” I thought she would be on my side, but of course she isn’t.

“I love her already. When do I get to meet her?”

“She told Adam that the sex with Nate was terrible! We didn’t even have sex.”

“She’s my hero. I should bake her a pie.”

“I hate you.”

Leah laughs. “What did you say to her when you left?”

I flop down on the couch and Q immediately jumps up to join me, sensing my distress. She snuggles in close, and I appreciate that I’m not alone right now. I called Leah as soon as I got home to rant about the dinner.

That was our “together” Sunday activity: go out with a friend to a restaurant we’d never been to. Easy for me since I haven’t gone out much since I moved here. I let Shay pick the place and it turned out to be the most delicious Indian food I’ve ever had. Too bad Adam ruined it.

I cannot get him out from under my skin.

“I told her that she’s the worst friend I’ve ever had.”

“And let me guess, she believed you as much as I did when you told me you hate me.”

“Yes,” I grumble.

“She’s a keeper.”

“I know. She said it was for the best and I would thank her someday.”

“She really doesn’t know you that well yet.”

“Ha ha.”

“But seriously, that was ballsy of her.”

“Right? I was shocked. I have to be honest, the look on Adam’s face was kind of priceless.”

“You loooooove him,” Leah croons like we’re in second grade.

“I do not. I hate him.”

“You should treat the people you love better.”

“He didn’t text me back, Leah! He forgot about me!”

The other end of the line is silent.

“What?”

“Paige.” Her voice is serious. “Think about it. Maybe he was embarrassed? Or surprised to see you? There are so many potential explanations, you really shouldn’t jump to conclusions without talking to him. ”

“Why do I need to talk to him about it? Maybe I can overlook him floundering with my name, but what about completely ignoring my texts?”

“Because there’s something between you, even if you don’t want to admit it, and he deserves a second chance.”

“He’s had two years of chances. He didn’t reach out.”

“You didn’t reach out either.”

“I did—”

“After the texts you sent?”

“No, because he clearly wanted nothing to do with me. He had my number and he didn’t text me back. I would have understood if he took days, weeks, or even months after the race but he never got in touch. I’m not going to chase after some guy, no matter how perfect he seemed to be, and I cannot believe you would ask me to stoop that low.”

I can hear the contemplative silence through the phone and know she’s rubbing her eyes in exasperation.

She sighs. “It’s not stooping low if you care about him like he obviously cares about you.”

“I don’t even know him. And he doesn’t know me.”

“I don’t believe that at all.”

“Leah, it was two days, two years ago.”

“Then let him go.”

“What?”

“Let him go. Get him out of your heart.”

“I have. I’ve dated.”

“And does it ever work? ”

I sigh, knowing she’s right. I haven’t tried very hard. I’ve kept ultra-Adam too close.

But I’m right too. I’m not going to beg someone to love me. The only way to get Adam out of my system is to stop making assumptions.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” I say.

“Good. Now go to bed.”

“It’s eight o’clock.”

“And you have to get in a workout before work tomorrow.”

She knows me so well. She hangs up without saying goodbye. We never say goodbye to each other.

I do not talk to Adam the next day. After my morning kickboxing class, I’m full of confidence and rage, ready to get this over with.

And then I see him from across the room, laughing at something Julien said.

All my bravado melts away and I can’t do it. The small voice of doubt gets louder, and I can’t open myself up to the potential of getting hurt by this man again. Instead, I ignore him like I should have from the start. Apparently, that was his strategy too, because it works. He ignores me as well.

Fine. That is just fine.

Shay picks me up early Sunday morning for yoga the next week. It was tough getting out of bed, but I know how good this class will be for my body. That doesn’t stop me from slamming the passenger side door a little harder than necessary.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Shay says brightly. I stick my tongue out at her.

It’s a quiet drive to the yoga studio and I watch the sun stretch its rays over the mountains. The water gives way to the fiery horizon, magnifying the incredible colours.

Finally, another sunny day. I haven’t had one since I discovered the bay when the tide was out. I’ve been researching the tide so I can go with Q but haven’t been able to make it work yet with my schedule.

We chat with classmates as we make our way into the building. I know I’ve made us a few minutes late and I hope our spots at the back aren’t taken.

When I open the door to the stifling hot room, I stop short causing Shay to crash into me. There, in our spot, are Adam and Mateo, stretching. Shay tries to pop her head up behind me to see what the hold-up is, but she’s too short.

I push open the door to let her in, and she can’t stop the giggle that bursts out.

The sound causes several people to look over at us, including Adam and Mateo. Mateo waves enthusiastically and my hand raises all by itself to return the gesture. Traitor.

“They came,” Shay says, still laughing.

“I see that.”

Mateo jogs over to us.

“We saved some spots for you! ”

“Gee, thanks,” I mumble. Shay sets up in front of Mateo, leaving the space in front of Adam wide open.

“Hey,” he says. My eyes trail the drop of sweat already beading on his forehead.

“Hi.” Does my voice always sound so strangled?

Turning away from him, I roll out my mat and lie on my back. I find my breathing. At least, I try to. Adam’s presence is like a living current of energy all around me and I’m too aware of him to be centred.

The instructor leads us through the opening sequence with a heavy breathing exercise. I eventually manage to clear my head until he has us stretch up into downward dog, giving me the perfect view of the muscles cording around Adam’s neck through my legs.

My mind is a dirty place right now, bent over in front of him this way. All I can think of is how he should be underneath me, or behind me. Or how a different view of him between my legs would be preferable.

I sense his eyes on me the whole class, but it doesn’t feel the same as when the instructor stares. It’s not slimy—it’s soft and caressing.

I’m so hot and it’s not because the temperature is a million degrees. It’s because I’m seeing how flexible Adam is, how the veiny muscles on his arms flex in all sorts of positions. His forearms, God, his forearms.

Am I salivating?

When I catch Shay’s eye, she winks at me, her eyes darting to Mateo. He’s lean, like a runner, and is equally flexible. He looks like the kind of guy who does yoga on a mountain after a hike to the summit. But my attention never strays from Adam for long.

The heat is getting to my head because I cannot stop staring, no matter how many times he catches me watching him. Does that mean he’s watching me too?

I’m grateful I wore all black today because I’m a lot wetter than I usually am at the end of a class. And it’s not just sweat.

The instructor guides us through the movements, trying to bring our focus back to our breathing, and I’m trying, I really am. But my legs feel like jelly, and I cannot get rid of the need pulsing through me. What is it about sweating in hot places next to Adam that turns me on?

The class ends and I thank the universe for putting me out of my misery. Until we walk outside.

Mateo has to take off and Shay makes a lame-ass excuse to leave as well, even though she was my ride. That leaves me and Adam standing on the sidewalk.

Alone.

He rubs the back of his neck, tugging at the hem of his drenched shirt.

“So . . .” he says.

I raise a brow at him. “So?”

“You want to go for a run?”

“What?” I was not expecting that.

“The yoga was great. I feel loose and limber. Want to run with me? ”

I don’t know how to process those words. I don’t want to go for a run with him. I also very much do want to.

Then the word falls from my mouth before I can think to stop it: “Okay.”

Adam’s round blue eyes light up and damn if my heart doesn’t lurch at the sight. He drops off his mat in his car—Shay took mine with her—and we awkwardly begin to run down the sidewalk.

“Do you mind if we switch to a path? I don’t like running on the streets,” I ask quietly.

“Sure,” he says and abruptly switches directions. My arm grazes his and I shiver. I blame the chilly air for my flushed skin. It is not him.

We’re pretty quiet as we find a slow, steady pace. Adam runs a little in front of me, leading the way until the path widens and we’re in a dense forest.

His form is good, and as bulky as he is, he’s light on his feet. I try to focus on the nature but quickly give up. His calves are defined and his quads flex with each stride.

Damn, I love running.

I feel my strength building, my muscles limber and straining pleasantly as our pace picks up. A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. There is only a niggling feeling in the back of my mind that something bad could be happening while I’m enjoying this run.

And I am enjoying it.

The trees filter the sunlight, and I think that maybe the universe is on my side for once.

She’s a cruel bitch.