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My lack of enthusiasm must’ve been obvious as he quirked a brow. “You feel well enough to go for a run?”
I downed some more water, leaning into a side stretch. “Nope, but it’ll help me sweat it out. My lacrosse coach used to make us suffer after a night of drinking, but I swear it worked. The only problem is it sucks balls while doing it.”
It was kind of adorable how he appeared mildly offended by my language. “Do me a favor and don’t say balls again. It’s a weird thing, but hearing a girl say that word or—” he stopped mid-sentence.
“Or what?”
He sighed. “The other word that weirds me out is beaver.”
I put my hand to my head because it hurt so much to hear myself laugh this hard.
“Everyone has those words that make them cringe.” He almost looked embarrassed.
Finally, when I could breathe through the giggles, I spoke again. “Fair enough. If it makes you feel better, I’ve got two of my own as well.”
He seemed part curious and part apprehensive. “Let me guess, one starts with a C.”
“How did you know?”
“Almost every woman hates that word.”
“Every woman hates the word cute?” I could probably add clinical to the C-word list as well.
“Are you being serious?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t have anything against the word in general, such as: look at the cute beaver playing with those balls in the pond.”
He rolled his eyes, grinning. “Cute.”
We were both laughing now. “I don’t have a problem with it being used that way, either. It’s being called cute as a twenty-two-year-old that’s annoying.”
“So noted, but the other C-word doesn’t bother you?”
“You mean C-U-Next-Tuesday? No, not really.”
He smirked. “Then why didn’t you say it?”
“Because I was raised in the South and, although I don’t mind hearing it, I don’t say it.”
He shook his head, laughing. “Virginia is not the South.”
“Oh, I think Robert E. Lee would beg to differ. Hello, you grew up there too. Virginia was the South during the Civil War.”
“Okay, maybe it was back then, but Northern Virginia is definitely not considered part of the South now, and since when have you abided by Southern manners?”
“Every time my mother is paying attention.”
“I get it. Guess we all do that in front of our parents. Do you prefer to run outside or down on the treadmill?”
I picked up my sunglasses, figuring I’d need them. “Outside.”
“Okay, I’ll go with you, considering those running shorts are—”
My brow arched as I waited for him to finish that sentence and focus his gaze up from my legs.
“I’m only saying you might need a chaperone.”
I looked down at my attire. “I’m wearing regular running gear. Besides, didn’t you just come from the gym?”
