Disappointment dulls my senses. I bite my tongue, not wanting to waste my energy arguing with him.
I surge ahead, forgetting about him so I can get in the zone.
It’s not long before Landon’s right next to me again.
If I go any faster, I’ll peter out before the race is halfway done. But there’s no way I’m running next to this man the entire time. I hang back a few strides instead.
Landon glances at me over his shoulder. “Slowing down already?”
Anger bubbles to the surface. “I’m pacing myself.”
He laughs, slowing his strides until he’s beside me again. “Since when do you pace yourself?”
“Since you’re annoying the shit out of me while I’m trying to enjoy my race.” I push harder to get away from him, ignoring the protest from my legs and my lungs, from every part of me telling me to ease up.
But Landon matches me. “Wanna race?”
Now we’re talking.
I glance up at him. “What’s your wager?”
“Whoever loses has to donate a thousand dollars.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “You sure you want to be down a grand?”
He coughs out a laugh. “I have the money, but I won’t be losing.”
I roll my eyes though he can’t see it behind my Aviators. “Deal. Whoever crosses the finish line first wins.”
My body comes alive, adrenaline coursing through me and allowing the runner’s high to take over. Nothing fuels me the way competition does, and life has been seriously lacking in that department.
We keep pace beside each other, saving our energy for the final drag.
The smell of sweet sugar competes with the scent of the ocean the closer we get to the finish line. We started at the beginning of the boardwalk, away from the chaos of the ridesand arcade games, running towards it. This way, people can eat and hang out when they cross the finish line.
I keep my sights set on the ferris wheel, growing larger the closer I get to it.
Landon huffs beside me, and I grin. “When was the last time you ran?”
“College.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “How are you in this good of shape without running?”
He flashes me a smile. “You checkin’ me out, Morgan?”
I clench my jaw as I toss him a glare. “I’m just saying?—”
“Oh, my God. That’s why you slowed down before. You were checking out my ass!”
“I was not.”
I most definitely was.
“Stop sexualizing me. Geez.”
“I know what you’re trying to do, Fletcher, but it won’t work.” I pant as my sneakers pound against the wooden planks. “My cardio is excellent. I can talk and run at the same time.”
I shouldn’t, of course. But I do it anyway just to show that I’m better than him.
