Page 27 of Anything for You
I pause for a second to catch my breath. We’ve picked up the pace a little as we get warm and it’s just above a comfortable conversation pace. It feels good, though, to move like this with Jeremy next to me, our habitual awkwardness melting away.
“I used to go through all these scenarios in my head. What if I had plans to sleep over at my grandparents’ house instead of going home so my parents didn’t have to come pick me up? What if one of them got a phone call and had to stay at the office alittle longer? What if the truck had hit a red light earlier and not been at that exact point on the highway at that exact time. All the what ifs were too much for my eight-year-old brain to process, and I would go into an anxiety spiral that would sometimes last for hours. So, when my grandma saw it happening, she would ask me to tell her something true. I guess maybe it was her way of having me focus on the facts rather than the unknown. I never really asked her why she did it. I just know it worked. The question always made me feel grounded. Like as long as I could point to something true, I was in control of something at a time in my life when everything felt so out of control.
“You said it was hard for you to believe it’s true that Ben is your brother. It’s okay to feel like that. But tell me something you know is true.”
It takes a couple strides for me to realize Jeremy is no longer next to me. I stop running and turn to see him frozen on the trail, staring at me.
“What is it?”
“I think you’re the smartest person I know, Ems.”
I fidget, his gaze like an itch between my shoulder blades I can’t reach.
“I’m really not. Molly is way smarter than I am. She has entire portions of the tax code memorized.”
“That’s just the luck of a photographic memory. You’re smart about people. You see things no one else does. I think you always have. I’m right about that, aren’t I?”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to hang on to the ease between us.
“I’ve always…felt things, I guess? Like, I can feel what other people are feeling. Some people call it being an empath, but I’ve always thought that name was weird. It’s not supernatural; it’s mostly just paying attention.”
“Huh.” Jeremy gets a thoughtful look on his face. “That must get hard sometimes. Taking on other people’s feelings like that.”
I take a second before I answer, surprised at his intuition. “I think it helps me to be a good friend, and it’s definitely helped me in my career. But it can be a lot sometimes. It’s part of the reason I run. When it gets heavy to carry my feelings and everyone else’s, I come here.”
“Here is the best place,” Jeremy says, glancing around at the still empty trail.
“It is. It’s always been my most sacred place, and this is my favorite time of day. A little before sunset, when the sun is lower in the sky and the light is all soft and golden like this. Photographers call it magic hour, and I think it really is. It’s the time of day where anything seems possible. Like magic could actually exist. So, tell me something true in the best place, at the most magical time of day.”
Our gazes lock, and the hunger in his eyes sends a shiver running down my spine, but not out of fear. No, this shiver is lust and desire andwant. Right here in the woods, with his spicy scent surrounding me and our breathing just a little faster than normal from the exertion of exercise, I want this man fiercely.
But as quickly as the hunger burned, it’s gone, replaced by something that looks a lot like appreciation, and I’m relieved becausefriends, Emma.
When he speaks, his voice is filled with warmth.
“I’ve always liked running alone, but I think my new favorite thing is running with you.”
I smile at that; it’s like he plucked the thought right out of my head.
“Me too.”
“Want to keep going?”
“Definitely.”
We set off again, a relaxed silence falling between us as we find our pace. We’ve probably run another mile or so when my phone rings. I toss Jeremy an apologetic glance.
“Sorry, it might be my grandma. She knows I run at this time of day, and I always text her afterwards. If she doesn’t hear from me by a certain time, she calls to make sure I haven’t been, like, kidnapped on the trail or anything. She’s a little protective.”
Jeremy chuckles. “That’s really nice. You should get it.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and glance at the display. But it’s not my grandma. I flash the phone at Jeremy to show him Hallie’s name before I swipe to answer. We’re all texters. If she’s calling me, it’s important.
“Hey, Hal, what’s up?”
“Em, where are you?”
“I’m running with Jeremy. Is everything okay?”
