Page 148 of The Route to You

Kyle slowed on the sidewalk as his watch vibrated on his wrist, then came to a full stop.

Jeremy groaned beside him. “More push-ups?”

Grinning, Kyle nodded. “Yup.”

He dropped where he was, unconcerned about being seen, even though he was in the middle of the neighborhood. He set his hands out, careful to position his shoulder carefully as he started the movement.

For the past two weeks, while Sloan had been gone, this had been the routine: three times a day, plus PT. Run five miles, stopping every half mile for twenty-five push-ups. Lots of stretching in between. Easy enough.

“This after weight training is just cruel, bro,” Jeremy said, getting down on the sidewalk slowly.

“Yeah, yeah. Weak ass.”

Both the surgeon and Wanda had urged caution, even though they’d cleared him for starting limited weight training.

But Kyle knew himself—knew where he was in his recovery. Even Wanda continued to express amazement at how well he was doing.

He’d accomplish nothing by babying that shoulder. Train enough, work hard enough, and he’d be fine.

Or you might ruin your shoulder forever.

The voice of reason didn’t win out. He kept going, taking measured exhales and inhales with each movement.

He finished the push-ups and stood, wiping the sweat from his brow as Jeremy finished.

Jeremy rested against the sidewalk without shame, setting his cheek against it. “Just leave me here and keep going. I’ll catch up eventually.”

Kyle squatted beside him. “I’m fairly certain your face is in bird crap.”

“As long as you don’t tell my girlfriend, I’m good with that,” Jeremy said, crawling onto his hands and knees.

Girlfriend. Kyle smirked. He’d been a little surprised when Jeremy had come by earlier in the week and announced that he and Anna had started dating. And he was happy for Jeremy—even if it meant that Jeremy had been cutting out early on their training sessions in the afternoons to get ready to hang out with Anna.

When Jeremy wasn’t available, he ran with one of the dogs. Charlie usually did better than Sadie, but by the afternoon it was too hot and neither dog enjoyed it. Thank God fall was around the corner.

They started running again and by the time they were closing in on the last half mile to Sloan’s house, Kyle wasn’t loving the heat either. His shirt stuck to his back, soaked through, his head was starting to hurt. But being out here was better than being in the house in a lot of ways, as much as he’d started to love the dogs.

“Any word on when Sloan’s getting back?” Jeremy asked, almost creepily echoing Kyle’s thoughts.

“Nah, not yet. She’s been pretty busy.” Yeah. That’s what we’ll stick with.

Too busy to call the man watching her dogs? The one she’s romantically involved with?

“But didn’t your new lease already start? I still have a note in my calendar that you needed help moving this weekend.”

Don’t remind me.

“Yeah . . . I can’t leave the dogs though, so it probably won’t be this weekend.” He’d stayed, because twice now Sloan had texted to tell him she was staying for a “couple of more days” and she’d “explain later.” Since he was watching the dogs, he needed to stay.

And he didn’t want to leave.

“And you’re good, right? I know Sloan is a sensitive topic, and I don’t want to step on your toes⁠—”

“I’m fine,” Kyle said quickly.

He didn’t want to talk about it.

Not knowing whether he was coming or going was killing him. Sloan’s delays made it all so much worse. He’d closed the door to the guest room, unable to look at the smeared paint on the walls and every memory that went with it. That night, Sloan had seemed so . . . alive.