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“Running is better with music,” he responds even though I didn’t actually ask a question. He turns to leave and starts running away from me as he says over his shoulder, “Nice pants, by the way.”
The fact that he noticed my pants fills me with excitement, then instantly pisses me off.
What the hell am I doing here? Why am I going to run with my sworn enemy? I need to leave.
He notices I’m not following him, so he stops and turns to face me. “You coming?”
Even though everything in my body is telling me I need to turn around and go back home, my feet move toward him instead of away, and before I know it, I’mstanding by his side, putting his earbud in my ear, where I hear hard rock music blasting through it.
His nod is the only reaction I get from him before he turns back around and starts up the hill with me right behind him.
He takes it easier tonight with a good tempo and not the sprint that he had last time. We run up and down the hill through paths that I didn’t even know existed, all while more rock music plays between the two of us, louder than I would want in just one ear.
When we get to a steep portion of a hill, I silently say a curse inside, thinking I might die if he takes me up there, and I want to hug him when he stops at the base.
I take a few seconds to catch my breath. Sweat drips down my forehead so I lift my shirt to wipe it dry. When our eyes meet, something electric bounces between the two of us, and I instantly drop my shirt, covering my stomach and I’m sure part of my sports bra too.
To change the mood, I go for my same old snarky type of comment. “I’m not going up that.”
He nods. “Yes, you are. But don’t worry. We’ll walk it. I want to show you something.”
He doesn’t wait for my response and starts heading up the steep hill. Of course, I follow right behind him.
You would think walking up the hill would be easier than the running we were just doing, but it’s absolutely not. My legs are burning, and my chest is tight as I force myself to look down, focusing on taking one step in front of the other while listening to the music playing through one ear to get me through it.
“You good?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Yeah.” I surprise even myself that I was able to get the word out. Thank God it’s only one syllable.
I want so badly to stop. I need to stop to breathe, I need to give the fire in my legs a break, but I don’t. I don’t know why I refuse to let Dalton see me weak in any way, but he triggers a fire so deep inside me that I didn’t even know it was there. When I’m with him like this, I push harder than I ever have before.
He takes off like a bat out of hell in front of me, and my insides instantly die at the thought of having to chase after him. Looking up, I’m filled with absolute relief when I see we’re almost at the top and he just sprinted the last few feet up.
It takes everything in my soul to lift my legs higher and faster, but I do it, and in five seconds, I’m standing at the top of the hill, feeling like I’m going to die.
“Look around,” I hear him say, but right now, all I can focus on is not having a panic attack as I suck in air that seemingly can’t get in my body fast enough.
“I—” I hold up a finger while I’m bent over with my hands on my knees, trying to breathe. “Need—” I breathe some more.
To my dismay, I collapse on the ground with my arms open in a spread-eagle format before covering my face with one arm and trying to breathe more steadily.
Embarrassment washes over me, and I wait for the belittlement I’m sure is coming until I feel movement next to me.
When I turn my head, I see Dalton lying next to me in the same position. I watch as his chest bounces up and down while he tries to catch his breath as well.
“I swear these last two runs have pushed me more than my coach does,” he says through heavy breaths.
I let out a hard laugh. “You mean you don’t normally run like this?”
He matches my same laugh at his reaction. “No. These are normally my cooldowns after practice.”
I flip to my side and slap his chest. “You jerk,” I say more playfully than really meaning it.
He grabs my hand, holding it on his chest as he laughs harder. I feel his heart beating so fast. Tie that with the pure easiness of his laugh, and a feeling of comfort washes over me, calming my breath.
“I wanted to break you, but damn, girl, you don’t quit.”
When I realize he’s still keeping my hand on his chest, a sensation of panic races through me, and I pull it away, sitting up fast and propping my knees up to rest my arms on them.
