Page 108 of Get Me to the Starting Line

And even though we’re in public, I can’t care one bit. Not as his hands move, sliding beneath the fabric of my open back dress. Not as his lips and tongue drag down my neck and onto my shoulder. Not when I feel him, hard and insistent on my ass.

He’s everywhere.

The music fades to the background until it’s just a beat that matches the rhythm of my pounding heart, urging my movements. I’m lost in the feel of him, in the sensation of him surrounding me.

Of our hips moving in tandem.

My hand snakes up his arm, coming to cup the back of his neck, keeping him there. Not that it felt as though he was leaving, but the notion that hecouldleave has me tightening my grip.

I feel the vibration in his chest, his low moan right in my ear, carrying over the music.

It’s then I wonder how we look to the others, what they would say. Do we look like Paige and Adam did, wrapped so completely in each other? That’s what this feels like.

We’re in our own little bubble, and those fleeting thoughts disappear when his lips brush my ear.

“Tu hantes chacune de mes pensées, chacun de mes rêves.” His voice is hoarse. I may not know what the words mean, but I feel them in my bones.

If I was burning before, I’m scorching now as those words, the yearning in his voice, burn me from the inside out, searing the blood in my veins until I may combust on the spot.

Cold air at my back startles me. When I whip around, he’s already gone. How can a giant disappear into the crowd so fast? I search, but he’s not there. He’s nowhere.

What the hell?

I haven’t been drinking but I’m drunk, like it was all a fever dream. But I can feel the lingering effects of his body on mine. His touch. His words. He was there.

I fight my way through the crowd, hoping to find him back at our table, but he’s gone. I reach into my clutch to check my phone and there’s a text with one simple line.

Julien

see you in the morning

“Didyougetanysleep last night?” Paige asks when she opens my hotel room door. Who gave her a copy of my room key?

I throw a pillow at her but she catches it easily, laughing it off like I wasn’t trying to seriously injure her. Her fiancé is also not a morning person so she’s probably used to it by now.

I’m half dressed, and thanks to last night’s nerves, all I can feel is the churning of my stomach. Paige sets down a small jar of peanut butter and two slices of bread, slabbing the thick spread on.

She hands me one and takes the other for herself, happily munching away as she flops on my bed.

Does she not see how distraught I am?

I don’t think I can do this. No, scratch that—I can’t. I can’t do it. How the hell can I run thirteen miles? Twenty-one kilometres? I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud because Paige would have corrected me on both distances.

Thirteen point one miles, twenty-one point one kilometres.

I watch myself in the mirror as I braid my hair back, my puffy eyes and red flushed cheeks evident in the harsh hotel vanity light. Paige eyes me in the reflection, stopping mid-chew to frown.

She takes her time swallowing and then comes to wrap her arms around me from behind.

“You can do this,” she whispers.

Her arms tighten, and I let my little sister comfort me. My skin itches, uncomfortable with the role reversal, but I let her. I let her be my rock instead of the other way around. Am I too heavy for her to bear?

Six months ago, I would’ve said yes, but we’ve had long and open chats during our training for this race, and I don’t think I am anymore.

I know I’m not.

“I’m scared,” I whisper back.

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