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Miri
Dinner at Birdie’s was interesting, to say the least. Birdie and Ruby were kind and funny and actually made me feel welcome to her home and, by extension, the island. Davis on the other hand, I just can’t get a read on the guy. I caught him staring at my boobs more than once during dinner, but then again, he also seemed so lost in his head I’m not totally sure that he was aware where he was looking.
He was also an asshole, but then curiously protective. He’d been really upset when he found out that Anthony had been the one in my house. Of course, he didn’t tell me why, only demanded that I stay away from him.
It’s sort of a moot point anyway, because I don’t want to spend time with Anthony. Problem solved.
The thing that confuses me most about Davis is that ache in my chest that expands when he’s near. Like I should touch him or try to make him laugh while he wraps me in his arms. I want to know him. There have been more than a few hints dropped about his past, but I want the details. Just me though. I want to hoard them and be their keeper. It’s odd as hell, but that’s how I feel.
After working in the conservatory for a few hours in the morning, I need to get out of the house. I throw on a pair of leggings, a sports bra, a holey t-shirt, and get my running shoes on.
I don’t remember when I started running to let off steam. At some point during our many moves, I realized that no matter where we lived, I could always go for a run. Although running in the scorching Arizona sun was a lot less fun than a cool fall day in the Midwest. This is the perfect way to explore the rest of the town that I haven’t had a chance to see yet. Grabbing my phone, I throw in some headphones, crank up my music, and take off.
It’s another cold day, but the sun is shining, and I work up a sweat in no time. Wind blows in from the sea and it’s rough to run through, but the fresh air is so invigorating that I don’t mind pushing through it. People raise their hands in greeting as I jog past shops on Aspen Street, which is the main thoroughfare. There’s a small grocery store, a wine bar, Paul’s Tavern, a handful of restaurants, along with a few clothing stores, a pastry shop and a coffee shop just on the main strip. There are other businesses littering the side streets, and I take the opportunity to scan the buildings for open space while I’m out here.
Once I’m through the town center, I follow a sign pointing to a path that leads down to the water. The sand makes for a challenging run, but I relish the burn and dig in, letting my muscles work hard. Sweat drips down my back and chest, dotting my shirt like a Rorschach inkblot. I love it. The salty air whips wisps of my hair over my neck where they stick to my skin. I smile into the wind when one of my favorite songs blasts through my earbuds. It’s like everything is finally coming together. My soul feels free, and I’m exhilarated for once in my life.
Being distracted by my joy is the only excuse I can think of for not seeing Anthony before he’s only a few feet in front of me. Anthony’s impromptu visit to my house a few days ago was enough one-on-one time for me, but I don’t want to be rude, so I lift a hand in greeting, planning to run right past him. An arm shoots out and catches the cord of my headphones, yanking them out of my ears.
“Hey!” I gasp, my breathing heavy from the fast pace I’ve been taking over the sand.
He’s wearing a wetsuit, but he’s taken his arms out and his upper body is exposed to the elements. He’s obviously someone who keeps active because he’s pretty fit for someone twice my age. Surprisingly, he has tattoos that curl and drape over his torso. Some of them are words I don’t recognize written in an elegant scroll, others look like simplistic runes that I hate to admit look badass. I blink, trying to clear my vision because my eyes are playing tricks on me. I swear it looks like the tattoos writhe against his skin, but after I blink, they’re static. It must have been a trick of the light.
“Oh, Miriam, how lovely to see you,” Anthony simpers. No apology or even a comment on how he just ripped out my earbuds. I gather the dangling cords and untangle them, keeping an eye on Anthony while I do.
“It’s Miri,” I tell him again, not that I think it will make much difference. He heard me the first freaking time I told him my preferred name, and he ignored it. I do my best to put my polite pants on, even though he doesn’t deserve it.
“Do you swim here often?” It sounds like a horrible pickup line, but my brain is churning and plotting. If this is Anthony’s swim spot, then I’m avoiding this stretch of beach like it’s quicksand.
“Yes, exercise is excellent for the body and soul. Don’t you think.” I’m not sure how someone can sound so superior and pompous answering a simple question, but Anthony manages it with aplomb.
“Well, I’m going to finish up my run.” I stick my headphones back in my ears. “See you around.” Just as I turn to leave, Anthony’s hand wraps around my upper arm, tethering me to the spot. Does this man not understand personal boundaries? Six feet, motherfucker. I grit my teeth, slowly turn, and level him with a stare.
“I’d like to welcome you to the island properly, Miriam.”
Dick.
“You’ll come to dinner at my place tomorrow evening. Seven sharp.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.” I extricate my arm from his grip and take a step back.
“I insist. I sit on the city council you know. Any new businesses setting up shop in town come straight to me.” My skin chills at the implied threat that he could deny me a business license. At least I think that’s what he’s getting at.
“I’ll send you the address in the morning. Enjoy the rest of your run.” Before I can figure out how to possibly respond, he’s already turned his back to me and striding off down the beach.
