Page 13 of Runaway
“Not probably. Definitely. What if she had pretended to love hiking and you thought it was real?” My breath huffed in earnest now. He dialed back his pace a little and I went with it in silent exultation. “You'd keep dating her, thinking it was a good fit, and then it would crumble beneath you later. Now it can crumble before it began. Reality sucks, Mark. But sometimes you have to be grateful for it.”
Advice I should take myself.
This time as he considered my words, his annoyance calmed. We'd inadvertently fallen into the same back-and-forth we often had as client and accountant. It seemed so easy. In person, his long silences weren't so weird. I left him to think about it as we rounded a bend. Wind blew gentle rain in our direction and sprinkled my hair with a chilly staccato.
“You're right,” he finally said. “We weren't a good fit, but I wouldn't have seen that right away.”
“It sucks.”
“It's frustrating.”
“Very.”
That seemed to calm him further and we settled back into the run. When the lights of Adventura were visible through the dark underbrush, I glanced at my watch, startled to see minutes shaved off my time. Maybe I should run with him more. He certainly pushed me.
We slowed at the parking lot entrance, not far from where both our cars were parked and walked in silence to cool down. Before I could veer to my path with a vaguethanks, have a good night,he nudged me toward his cabin with an elbow.
“Come inside,” he said. “There's more room to stretch at my place.”
6
Mark
Alow bank of coals greeted us when we returned to my place.
While Stella stood on my towel-rug and rubbed raindrops out of her hair, I brushed water off my shoulders and headed for the pile of firewood near the fire. Cold had already started to seep in between the chinks in the wooden log walls and through the windowpanes. Keeping this place warm was a part-time job.
“Have you eaten yet?” I asked over my shoulder.
“No.”
“Great. I'll make grilled cheese.”
She didn't protest, which I took as a good sign. Instead, when I turned around, she'd become engrossed in a picture of me, JJ, and Lizbeth on the wall. JJ had his arm around both of us. While he and I laughed, Lizbeth stared up at him with utter adoration, red hair glimmering in the summer sunshine. Lizbeth had tacked it onto the wall as soon as she'd printed it, and it had been there since the spring. With them gone, I couldn't bring myself to take it down.
“JJ?” she asked, still studying the photo as she gripped one foot behind her in a stretch.
“Yep.”
“You're not identical, then?”
“Not even a little.”
With a little tender care, the fire flared back up around the small kindling and my driest logs. I abandoned it to grow slowly and grab a drink of water, then tossed her a cup to help herself. She did, and I was relieved. I wanted a friend, not someone to take care of. She seemed perfectly happy to do it herself.
“You plan to shower?” I asked, leaning on the back of a chair.
She nodded.
“Great. We'll both shower, then I'll fix dinner. Once I'm done, we're watching a movie.”
An eyebrow arched. “Are we?”
Taking command was natural in some aspects of my life. Work. Travel. Lifting. Mom had always said I was born a natural leader, while JJ assumed I just couldn't help myself. But dating was my fuzzy realm. The place of uncertainty. The place where my dreams went to die because some women didn’t like male leadership. Or maybe I came on too strong. Maybethatwas why everything failed me.
“You don't have to,” I countered. “But you'll regret it if you don't. I'm just about to start a James Bond marathon and that's one stud muffin you don't want to miss.”
I held out my hands as if to sayjust saying.
