Page 45 of A Shot at Love
I wake the next morning feeling hungry and cold. Daniel and I spent all night in the living room, waking up a few times to kiss and more. We even talked for a lovely hour at 3:00 AM. At some point in the night, I pulled my T-shirt back on, and Daniel put on his sweats.
My smartwatch vibrating where it lies near my head is what ultimately propels me from our lovely cocoon, telling me it’s 9:30 and if I don’t get moving, I’ll be late to practice. It doesn’t officially start until noon, but I’m expected for pre-workout and stretching by 10:30. I could skip it, but answering questions about my relationship with Daniel is the last thing I want. We’re still technically fake dating for my teammates, and real dating—but only for the first time—to Jadea. Explaining all of that so early does not seem wise.
Daniel looks so unassuming, lying in a wild mess of pastel blankets and pillows. Some sunlight is starting to bleed through my living room curtains, though I try to draw them closed so he can sleep as long as he wants. I hum through my shower and my breakfast of avocadotoast. It’s either the sunlight or my good mood that stirs Daniel. “Annie?” He rubs his eyes adorably. “What time is it?”
I look at the clock. “Just after ten. I’ll have to leave soon.”
He somehow unearths himself from the blankets and heads my way. I’m sure I look thoroughly sexy in my towel turban and hot pink bathrobe. Daniel leans in to kiss me, and I have to hastily drop my toast. “Daniel!” I start giggling as he kisses down my neck, pulling me closer. “We’re going to be late.”
He leans back enough to raise a brow. “Late?”
“I need to be in the cardio room in less than half an hour.” I look at the clock pointedly. “You can join me if you want, run on the treadmill.” Daniel has already made use of our cardio room several times. But he’s hardly paying attention to me, coiling the robe’s tie around his finger. “Come on,” I wheedle, “what’s more tempting: sex or the runner’s high?”
Daniel shakes his head in disgust. “You play dirty, Ms. Larger.”
I laugh and press a lingering kiss to his mouth. “I know. Now, hurry up and get ready.” I manage to half-heartedly pull away so he can get dressed and brush his teeth with one of my spare toothbrushes.
He’s about to walk away, just barely holding on to my hand, when he pulls me back in. I bump into his chest in surprise. “One more thing,” he says, real low. “And it’s really important. Annie, there is nothing better in lifethan waking up next to you. Will you please be my girlfriend again?”
I shouldn’t be surprised he asked, but I am. I try to hide the depth of my emotion behind a delighted smile. “I think I will.” My voice is lower too, as though I can’t just laugh this off.
We stare at each other like happy idiots, until I finally regain my senses and push him towards the bathroom. “We’re going to be late!” I look at the clock in alarm. “I hate being late!”
Daniel releases a long-suffering sigh. “My girlfriendis so punctual.”He emphasizes the first two words as he heads into my bathroom.
“My boyfriend is, too!” I yell back cheerfully.
That feeling in my chest is too bright to ignore. Happiness suffuses through me. Why did I deny Daniel for so long?
17
I wonder how love-struck Daniel and I look as we enter the cardio room before practice. The whole morning has had a very strange, rosy quality to it. We squabbled good-naturedly over the music in the car—he’s not a fan of my bubble-gum princess pop, and I could take or leave his addiction to R&B from the 90s. We made plans to go thrifting together and for me to show Daniel the sights in St. Louis. He even casually mentioned that I come to visit him in New York once he finishes the story here.
I have this reel playing in my head that feels eerily similar to when we went out before—going to family dinners, shopping together, supporting each other at his shows or my games, running together. There is a moment where that reel abruptly ends, just like it did when he abandoned me at the hospital. But now that I know what was really going on in his head, I wonder if that reel could keep going.
First test, running together.
The cardio room is deserted, which tells me just how late Daniel and his kisses have made me this morning.
“Only twenty minutes,” I tell Daniel sternly, hopping onto my treadmill.
He does the same, punching in the intense settings he prefers. “Yes, boss!”
I roll my eyes, and we get started. We’re running in front of the viewing glass, and I can see down into practice. Some of my teammates have started their individual workouts, and I spot some of Daniel’s crew getting set up. Today’s cardio warm-up will have to be short and sweet.
Out of the corner of my eye, I check out Daniel’s gait. I don’t want to be too obvious, but this is the first time I’ve seen him run at track-star levels. Our glow stick adorned charity run was much more casual, and I didn’t see any of the effects of his accident then.
I can’t say I see any of them now either. He definitely has a raised, pink scar on his thigh, which is visible due to his teeny-tiny track shorts. But otherwise, he runs at a very high level. He looks like one of those people at the gym that you’re convinced are putting on a show to make you jealous. His legs move swiftly, but quietly. I can see that his speed is at level seven, while I jog at a chill level four. To be fair, this is his workout and my warm-up.
The more I look at Daniel, the more distracted I become. Despite our love-struck morning, Daniel is laser-focused on his run. He’s wearing Bluetooth headphones and sweat begins to form on his brow. A bead runs down his neck. One pools in his collarbone. His calf muscles are popping, his arms pumping.
Is it getting hot in here, or is it just the literal warm-up?
I look at the time and realize we’ve only been running for eight minutes. I should not be this hot.
Another peek at Daniel, and I can fully admit to myself that I amreallyattracted to him. Into him. Obsessed with his face, body, spirit. Want to pull him off the treadmill, towards me, run my hands through his damp curls, lick the sweat dripping down his—
Paying little attention to my run, I step a bit off the moving belt. I stumble too close to the back of the treadmill, and my hand misses the handrail. I land hard behind the still moving treadmill, with a sore tailbone and the embarrassing realization that falling for my boyfriend caused me to literallyfall.
