Page 25 of Running Into You
“It’s complicated.” I sigh. “She means a lot to my entire family, and to me. I don’t want to mess things up.”
“Hmmm. I met Abby at my aunt’s third wedding. She was there as my cousin Ed’s date.” She smiles at the memory. “Some things are worth making a mess for.” She winks and exits the office, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Chapter 14
Betty
My eyes open slowly Wednesday morning. I remember I don’t have to get up early because Josh said I would need a day off. I still don’t know why; I wasn’t sore at all after the run. I contemplate getting up but decide to let myself stay in bed a bit longer. It’s still early and my bed is so warm and cozy. I don’t think I’ve moved since I fell asleep last night.
Touching myself while I think about Josh has become a nightly occurrence, and yesterday’s run gave me lots of material to work with. The sound of his breathing as he ran alongside me, his beautiful face smiling at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. The way his arms flexed as he pushed his windswept hair back from his forehead. His eyes darkening as he looked me over before our run, making me feel like my new wardrobe was worth every penny.
So why did he seem completely repulsed when he learned Tanner had invited me to The Outlook? Like there was something wrong with me. Or something wrong with Tanner, because he liked me that way. Was it so hard for him to believe that one of his friends had been interested in me? The rejection stung, and it made me question exactly what’s been going on between us. Have I been imagining the looks he’s been giving me?
Pushing thoughts of Josh aside, I attempt to turn over. Pain shoots through every part of my body. Everything hurts. My legs, my stomach, my ass, and even my arms are somehow involved in this living hell. I try to sit up and fall back on the pillow with a groan.
“Why do people run?” I ask aloud, knowing I won’t get an answer. How is it physically possible to be in so much pain after one run? And how the hell am I going to get ready for work in this state? I think back to a few years ago when I needed an emergency appendectomy, and the discharge nurse taught me how to stand without hurting myself. I decide to try the same technique now. I take a deep breath and, on the exhale, push myself into a sitting position while swinging my legs off the side of the bed. Fuck, that still hurts. I take a few breaths to reset, then repeat the process, this time standing up on the exhale. My legs are definitely the most damaged body part. I literally limp to the bathroom, holding on to the vanity once I get there. I realize once I’m there that I’m going to have to lower myself down to the toilet so I can pee, and the thought almost brings me to tears.
Somehow, I hobble my way through showering and getting ready for work. The last time I was in this much pain, my appendix was on the verge of rupturing. At least I got morphine for that! Ibuprofen isn’t doing shit.
I lock my apartment door and as I’m gingerly walking past the stairwell to the elevator, Josh exits his apartment. The corners of his lips twitch upward ever so slightly.
“Not a fucking word,” I warn.
“Still think you don’t need a rest day?” He’s clearly amused by my condition, and I want to wipe the smirk right off his gorgeous face.
“A rest day? Try a retirement.”
“You’re not quitting,” he says as he moves into my path. Freshly showered and dressed for work, he’s looking better than he has any right to. I’m annoyed at myself for noticing.
“Watch me.”
“If you quit, it won’t get better.”
“Well, it sure as hell can’t get any worse!” I continue past him to the elevator. The thought of walking the two blocks to work makes me ill and I contemplate calling an Uber. Josh follows me.
“Today is the worst it’s going to get,” he assures me. “You’ll still be a bit sore tomorrow, but the run will help.”
“How will I be able to run tomorrow when I can barely walk today?” I try to sound angry, but I’m mostly embarrassed and sad. I let myself believe that I was going to be able to do this. I was actually excited about it. Not to mention that my savings account took a major hit buying all the gear. I want to crawl back into bed and hide. This is why I don’t try new things.
The elevator arrives and we both step in. When the door closes, Josh aligns his body next to mine, both our backs pressing on the back wall. He slips my hand into his, giving it a squeeze, and I look up at him. My palm starts to sweat at his touch, and I hope he doesn’t notice.
“I’m going to get you through this week.” His face is sympathetic, and his tone is soft. “If you still want to quit after this weekend, I won’t give you a hard time. But I know you can do this, Betts.”
I can count the number of people who believed in me on one hand. Rilla, Maggie, my tenth-grade math teacher, Mrs. Fitzgerald, and now this man. He’s looking at me with so much intensity and for the first time today, my body registers a feeling that isn’t pain. There is a need in his eyes I’ve never witnessed. I want to crush him to me and put my mouth on his. I want his hands to touch me everywhere that I hurt and make me ache in a different way. A warm pulse starts between my thighs and builds to a throb.
The elevator doors open, and I come back to my senses. Josh gives my hand a final squeeze and takes a step to the side, allowing me to exit first. We make our way out of the building in silence, but he stays in step with me as I slowly and painfully make my way down the stone steps. We face each other again on the sidewalk.
“One week,” I say, averting my gaze from his and focusing on the cars that drive by us. There is a fine mist in the air and every third car or so has their wipers going.
“That’s my girl,” he says softly, but the heat from the elevator is still there in his eyes. I’m certain that my face is showing every emotion that I’m feeling, so I give him a small nod and turn to start my slow tread to work. I don’t need to look back to know that he’s watching me walk away.
It takes me longer than usual to get there, but by the time I’m crossing the marble foyer, the pain from earlier has dulled and my body has loosened. I make it to my office without meeting a single person and celebrate the small mercy by shutting my door, kicking off my shoes, and stretching. I still don’t know any real stretches, but I mimic the ones Josh did after our run. My movements are strained and painful, but I continue to gently coax my body into unnatural positions. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow feeling like I did today and mentally commit to doing thirty minutes of yoga this evening. I’m in the middle of a pirate stretch when someone knocks, and I nearly topple like a tree in surprise.
“Yes?” The door opens a crack and Andrew peers around the corner.
“Am I interrupting?” he asks, eyeing my socked feet. His eyes then travel up the rest of my body and I’m surprised when the attention doesn’t spark the same excitement as when Josh looks at me.
“Not at all,” I say, slipping my feet gingerly back into my shoes. I move toward my chair but realize that there is no way I can sit down without it being obvious that I am in pain. At the last minute, I decide to perch on my desk. I hope that I don’t look as awkward as I feel. “What’s up?”
