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I'm a fit guy. And weight-lifting can absolutely be a cardio workout. It just builds the kind of cardio more suited to sprints than long endurance runs. My typical cardio is a mile-long jog four days a week. I've never seen the need for more because my job keeps me active and I'm always in the gym working out in my free time.
Trail running requires more attention than road running because I have to watch out for tree roots and rocks sticking through the earth. I follow Clover off the trail to avoid a hiker and get slapped in the face by a tiny branch. It hurts like ten paper cuts at once. "What the hell, Weston?" I yell. "Hold the branch until I'm close enough to grab it or fucking warn me."
"Ooops, sorry," Clover says in a sweet, sing-song voice.
The hill gets steeper, and Grant slows to a fast walk. Clover keeps jogging until she's right up to Grant, then eases into a walk with a huff of frustration. It wouldn't take much to get her to push too hard and run out of steam before we make it to our first break.
She'll get over tired and go home and I'll have Grant all to myself as it should have been in the first place. When I reachClover, I veer off into the woods and keep jogging right past her and Grant.
As I suspected, she shouts and gives chase.
"Stay in zone two," Grant calls after us.
I check my monitor to see that I'm squarely in zone three at this point and creeping toward zone four. It's fine. I'll back off as soon as Clover passes me. Then I'll slow down and stay just close enough to keep her running scared.
We're almost at the top of the steep rise when Clover passes me. She reaches the top with a shout of triumph and speeds down the other side. I slow down and Grant catches up a moment later.
"Guess it's just you and me," I say between pants.
"Damn it, asshole." Grant's barely breathing heavy. "The trail splits ahead. I need to catch her and tell her which way to go."
I slow even more because, damn, my lungs ache. "She'll be fine."
He grunts something I can't make out, but I'm sure it's not good. Sucking in a deep breath, I pick up my pace and follow him over the rise and down the other side.
CHAPTER NINE
Clover
My breath comes in fast pants as I dodge another hiker, branches brushing my face. I jump back onto the trail and leap over a tree root, but I land off center, my knee twisting. There's a sharp spike of pain and then a dull throb, but I keep going. It's not the first time I've had twinges of knee pain, and I'm sure it'll pass like it always does.
But after a few minutes, it's no better. The downhill incline makes my knee ache with every step, my foot coming down harder and the impact vibrating through my body.
I'm way past zone two, but I hear pounding steps behind me, so I pick up my pace. I'm not going to let Ass-sher get ahead of me. That man doesn't need more things to gloat about.
It feels good to get away from him. Those hard abs and the fire in his eyes when he challenged me at the trail head made me feel things I don't even want to think about.
It's nothing.
Any attraction I feel to him is one hundred percent the result of it being months since I've so much as flirted with a man. Even before I moved back to Catalpa Creek, I'd been in a lengthy dry spell. I don't do relationships and the fitness lifestyle makes it difficult to go out to the clubs every night to look for a casual hook-up. Not that I've ever been any good at the casual hook-up thing.
I sigh as I dodge a root and start up another hill. The truth is, I've never had a boyfriend. I haven't been on a date in over a yearand I'm definitely a third date before sex kind of girl. I've only had sex with two guys and I'm terrible at flirting. The last time a guy tried to flirt with me, I thought he was genuinely interested in taking a yoga class and told him to call the studio and set it up. I'd never have known he was flirting if Ava hadn't been with me and told me what an absolute disaster I am.
I've always been a 'one of the guys, never the girlfriend,' girl. And the way Asher looks at me terrifies me. He's the kind of guy who probably flirts like he was born to it.
"Clover," a male voice yells behind me. "Damn it. Stop."
It takes me a few steps to realize it's Grant yelling at me. I step off to the side of the trail and put my hands over my head, trying to catch my breath.
Grant stops in front of me, his face red with exertion, but also… He's definitely pissed.
"Grant, I'm—" I start as I turn off the camera attached to my running belt.
He holds up a hand. "Not until Asher's here. I'm only saying this once."
Crap. He's really mad. And he's the only trail runner I know well enough to ask to train me. I guess I could try finding someone else, but I don't have time to waste. "It's Asher's fault. He challenged me to race and you know how I am with a challenge. Can you imagine Dani turning one down?" My argument would probably be better if I could breathe, but I do my best, walking in small circles while I talk to keep my muscles from cramping up. I can already tell my knee's going to hurt like a mother tonight.
Grant paces away from me, giving no sign whether my words have made a dent in his anger.
