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CHAPTER11
~ MILLIE ~
This is a low point in my life.
I’ve been running partners with Dax for a while now, and I’m questioning my sanity. My muscles ache, my joints are weeping, and every bone in my body feels as though it might shatter each time my foot slams against the pavement.
And it’s all for a guy.
It takes me right back to ninth grade when I signed up for wood shop class so I could be near a boy I was crushing on… and the only thing I got out of the class was six stitches from a run-in with a table saw and a B-minus grade, the lowest grade I had throughout high school.
But it’s amazing how much pain I’ll endure just to be around Dax. Time with him is sheer… bliss.
Bliss… and blisters like the two newest ones I feel forming on my heels right now.
“You’re doing great! You’ve really improved,” he says without any difficulty whatsoever as we turn, headed away from the beach and back to the sidewalk just as the first rays of dawn peek over the horizon.
“Thanks,” I say—that one tiny word costing me too much breath.
Apparently, I can barely sputter one word while I’m running, but this guy could probably sing a libretto from an opera without even slowing his pace.
If I wasn’t such a fool, I’d have come up with a better reason to spend time with him. I could have asked him to teach me how to paddleboard or surf. Hell, I could have just asked him if he wanted to go for a bike ride.
But no… I had to saythis.
I glance over at my uber-hot running partner, invigorated just a little more by the sight of him. He always runs without a shirt. Does he do this to torment me?
I mean, every guy who runs in this town is just as shirtless as Dax is. But they don’t have those pecs. Those abs. Those… other muscles that I’d be able to name if I had just paid better attention to human anatomy back in science class.
And then there is me, lumbering next to him as though each step might be my last.
Why am I tormenting myself like this?
A summer romance.
I hear the whisper of my sister-in-law’s words in my head again. The more I think about it, the more perfect the idea seems. He’ll be leaving at the end of summer anyway. It’s not like we’d stay in touch.
He’d go his way and I’d go mine.
I mean, the guy’s been mowing my grass for me. How am I not supposed to want to repay him with what would probably be the best sex I’ve ever had?
I silently swear that if I see the slightest trace of interest from him, I’ll take full advantage.
“Do you want to walk the rest of the way home?”
I look ahead of us and see my house coming into view.
I give my head a shake.
He grins. “You trying to impress me, lady?”
“If I was trying to impress you, I definitely wouldn’t be jogging with you.” I manage to huff and puff out the words.
“How about this? If you make it home, I’ll buy you one of those fancy coffees I always see you drinking.”
“From Frankie’s? You’re on!” I somehow muster the strength to increase my pace and I love the feeling I get when I do. I love feeling like, as tired as I am, somewhere inside of me there’s this reserve of strength that can push me a little further.
I’d find strength for a whole lot more right now, if I sensed even the vaguest spark of attraction from him.
