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“Running,” he said, like it should have been obvious and really, it kind of was. His eyes flicked down her form, and she wished riding breeches weren’t quite so formfitting. “I guess I should be glad you weren’t driving a car.”
“Shut up.” Then she realized what he’d said. “Wait. You live around here?”
He lifted one shoulder and looked around though they were surrounded by trees, so she had no idea what he was looking for. “Nah. I’ve been running for a while.” He pulled an iPod out of the pocket of his hoodie and glanced at it. “Four miles, maybe.”
Layne blinked. “You ran . . . four . . . miles? ”
“Yeah. I didn’t realize my morning run could get f**ked up, too, but maybe that’s just my week.”
His voice was sharp enough for her to feel an edge against her skin. But somehow it didn’t seem directed at her. He’d reacted the way an animal would lash out if it was in pain. Layne frowned, afraid to dig at an open wound but kind of afraid not to.
She opened her mouth to ask, but her words died at his expression. Eyes hard, jaw set. His hands were in his pockets, but it didn’t make him look relaxed. It made him look like he was trying not to hit something.
Layne let the air out of her lungs. She smoothed her jacket against her hips. “I need to walk back . . . catch my horse ”
“How far?”
“What?” Her eyebrows went up. “Oh, he probably ran back to the barn. Half a mile, I guess. The trail’s a loop. I just don’t want someone to find him and call my dad. If they knew I was out here alone . . .”
Her voice trailed off again. Gabriel was simply looking at her with that inscrutable expression, so Layne turned and started walking, calling over her shoulder. “Hey, I’m really sorry about running into you. I guess I’ll see you around school.”
He didn’t say anything. Sneakers ground against dirt behind her, and she knew he was taking off, running for home or wher-ever.
Then he drew up beside her, falling into step.
Her breath caught. “What are you doing?”
“You think I’m going to leave you alone in the middle of the woods? What the hell kind of guy do you think I am?”
She glanced up at him. A streak of dirt ran across his face, and it took everything she had not to reach up and rub it off.
She wondered what his cheek would feel like.
She swallowed. “I have no idea.”
Gabriel snorted. “I don’t think that’s true.”
She hunched her shoulders, feeling the muscles pull. Having a conversation with him was like navigating a minefield. She bit the inside of her lip and concentrated on keeping her mouth shut.
But after a while, he said, “I should have heard you.”
His voice was cautious. She didn’t look at him, worried this was just another mine waiting to explode.
“I had the music too loud,” he said. “I don’t usually run like that it’s a good way to get hit by a car. I didn’t even look when I came out onto the main trail. I just . . .” He hesitated.
Layne held her breath. Her dad once told her the best way to get the truth out of a witness was to be patient enough to wait for them to tell you. Everyone likes to talk, he’d said. The trick is letting them talk long enough.
Gabriel glanced over, making a frustrated noise. “You ever just have to do something to get all the thoughts out of your head?”
Layne nodded. That, she understood. “So you ran four miles?”
He shrugged and stared out at the trees around them. “I had to get out of the house.”
The words rolled around in her head for a moment, and she could practically see a construction worker throwing a flag in her path. Proceed with caution.
She went with something safe. “I’m surprised you’re not saving all that energy for tryouts. They’re after school, right?”
He shook his head. “Not for me. You were right. Anderson caught on.”
