Page 61 of The Exception

“It was an area with a lot of need,” she said. It wasn’t the whole truth but it was the only answer she could give. Just like he wasn’t ready to go into detail about his time in Afghanistan, she wasn’t ready to go into detail about the things that called her to mental health.

They both went quiet for a moment, but she could feel him watching her in that perceptive way he’d probably learned in the army. It felt like he was seeing past all of her defenses right through to her soul, and it always left her a little unsettled. Maybe this conversation had gone far enough for a Saturday morning.

“Ready to run?”

He watched her for a second longer like he knew she was intentionally changing the subject, before the corner of his mouth curved into his trademark grin.

“We’re outdoors in the sunshine and fresh air. This is my element. The correct question is, areyouready Ms. Treadmill?”

Sonya bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling. It had been a long time since someone brought her competitiveness out, and she was trembling with excitement. She folded her arms over her chest and cocked her head to one side.

“Do you want to make this a race so we can find out whose element this is?”

Trav’s eyes narrowed, telling her that she’d triggered the athlete in him as well.

“What’s the prize?” he asked.

She pretended to think about it for a minute before announcing, “If I win, you have to bring me my Starbucks order every morning for a week.”

He took a step closer and mirrored her stance by folding his arms over his broad chest.

“And if I win?” His voice was a low rumble and it sent the adrenaline already coursing through her body into overdrive.

“If you win, I’ll be responsible for our lunches for a week,” she offered, somehow managing not to sound like she’d already run six miles. She’d count that as her first win of the day.

He twisted his lips as he considered her terms, before grinning and extending his hand for a shake. “Deal. Just remember I’m allergic to shellfish.”

She nodded and gripped his hand. “As long as you remember I like my coffee extra hot.”

* * *

About 100 yards from the end of the run, Trav realized he’d been played. The slap of Sonya’s sneakers against the ground came closer together, and he glanced over his shoulder to see her feet flying over the dusty path. The comfortable lead he’d maintained since the first turn was being whittled away as she pumped her legs and gained speed with each push.

Her story about preferring to run on a treadmill was bullshit. Sonya liked to run anywhere and she liked to win.

Facing forward, Trav picked up the pace, his steps pounding the ground in time with his heartbeat. He didn’t want to let her catch up, and especially didn’t want her to pass him, but running in the army had been more about endurance than speed. While that was a useful skill in other aspects of civilian life, he found it pretty damn irrelevant when she pulled up beside him.

“What’s wrong, soldier?” she asked.

That breathy voice had his mind racing faster than his feet. What he wouldn’t give to hear that voice in a very different context, but that thought was just about as unhelpful as his ability to run far but not fast.

“Cross country runner?” he asked.

Realizing he’d uncovered her rouse, she grinned. “2014 UVA cross country record holder.”

He wanted to laugh but his lungs were focused on breathing. Anyway, she laughed for the both of them as she passed him, her ponytail swinging behind her without a care in the world. She didn’t even look like she was running at top speed. God, she was frustrating.

And sexy as hell.

Still, he wasn’t just going to give up and hand her this race. Gritting his teeth as a surge of adrenaline shot through him, he forced his legs to push harder and faster. The front end of her Pathfinder was the finish line, and she was a few yards away from crossing it when he caught up enough to grab her by the waist and snatch her into his arms.

Sonya squealed in protest as he jogged across the finish line backward making sure no part of her body crossed it ahead of him.

“You cheater!”

“I call it finishing strong,” he rebutted. “Especially considering the fact that you hustled me.”

“I did not,” she argued.

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