Page 43 of A Lot Like Forever
Chapter 10
“Stop!” she called out, so exhausted her legs felt like they were about to collapse beneath her.
Nate spun around, jogging backward as he watched her. “We’re almost there.”
She groaned. “Has anyone told you what a cruel taskmaster you are?” Faith dropped to the ground, head between her legs. She actually felt like she was about to be sick, which was the last thing she wanted to do with Nate watching her. She could have blamed it on the alcohol in her system, but she’d hardly had a lot to drink, and it was hours ago. Almost twenty hours ago to be exact.
He jogged back toward her then, she could feel the vibrations through the grass, and he blocked out all the sun as he stood towering above her.
“I thought you liked running?”
“Yeah,” she scoffed, “for a few miles at a decent pace.”
Nate laughed and she snapped her head back up to glare at him. “Sorry. How about we walk the rest of the way back?”
“You run. I’ll walk,” she told him, wishing she’d just taken the opportunity to stay at the house and lie in the sun or flick through a magazine. Hell, she’d probably have preferred cleaning the kitchen to keeping up such an insane pace alongside Nate for so damn long.
“I’m used to running with Chase,” Nate confessed, holding out a hand to haul her up. She took it, grudgingly, but she still appreciated the hand up. “We’re pretty hard on each other, but we’ve been training together a while.”
“Yeah, and I’m the featherweight in comparison. I shouldn’t have tried to impress you.”
“Darlin’, you’ve already impressed me today. The fact that you kept up for that long like it wasn’t killing you?” He dropped a kiss to her forehead and she winced. “What, you don’t want me to kiss you anymore?”
She frowned. “No, I don’t want you to kiss me when I’m all sweaty and gross.”
“Maybe I like the taste of your sweat,” he teased, wrapping his arms around her and pushing his pelvis. “Maybeit turns me on.”
“I’m starting to think everything turns you on,” she grumbled, but it was hard to stay annoyed with him when he was looking at her like he was about to eat her. The wicked look in his eye almost made her forget all about her burning calves. “Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen such a sex maniac as my teacher.”
His laugh was almost as wicked as his smile, and his wink made her knees go weak again. She really needed to get a grip on the effect he was having on her.
“What fun would a sex teacher be if hewasn’t?”
She made a noncommittal sound in her throat and pushed back from him. “Come on; let’s get this run over with and then you can make me something to drink. Something cold and alcoholic that’ll start to numb me before the pain hits.”
“Deal.” He held up his hand for a high five, but she just stared at him. “Or not. Come on; let’s go slow.”
She forced her body into a slow jog beside him and winced. She shouldn’t have stopped. Taking the break had only made her body seize up, and she was ready to collapse for the rest of the day. If not the entire month.
* * *
Nate was lying on the sofa, stretched out in just a pair of jeans, his hair still wet from showering and a bottle of beer in his hand. He was waiting for Faith to join him, although he was starting to wonder if she’d gotten out of the shower and just fallen straight into bed.
He was about to haul himself up when she appeared, wet hair loose around her shoulders, wearing boxer shorts and a little blue tank. Nate cleared his throat and took another sip of beer, trying not to stare at the fact that she had no bra on and her nipples were hard enough to make them visible. If Sam even knew the thoughts Nate was having about his sister, let alone what he’d done with her . . . He pushed those thoughts from his mind. Right now he was operating on a what-Sam-doesn’t-know-won’t-kill-him basis, which was only applicable given the fact that Faith had wanted to keep what was happening between them secret, just like he did.
“You still want to murder me?” he asked.
“Do you have another cold beer for me?” she asked back instead of answering him.
“Yep.” He motioned to the fridge. “Grab a bottle and come crash with me.”
She groaned and did as he’d suggested. “I want to kill you less now that I have beer.”
He grinned. “Says the girl who never drinks beer.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m so hot still. And sore.” She stretched in front of him, arms reaching for the ceiling and her top riding up high, showing off her flat, tanned stomach.
“Come here,” he grumbled, sick of looking without touching.
