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“It’s my turn,” Celia interrupted.
Trenton blinked at her. “What?”
“Last night, I let you drive me home, even though I didn’t need you to. It seemed important to you, so I gave in.” The annoyance of his insistence had fueled her through most of her shift. It wasn’t until she was in the car, giving him the silent treatment as he drove her home, that she’d seen the sense in his gesture. The city was dark at night, and unlike the empty bus stop closer to the condos, there had been homeless men hanging out beneath the overhangs at the stops closer to the tavern.
“Driving you home was about safety, not about my feelings,” Trenton said, his frown gathering.
Celia’s arms tightened. “It was still your call. My independence is important to me. I need things to be my call when it comes to me.”
Trenton opened his mouth, and Celia braced for the disagreement. “Fine,” came out instead. “I can understand that, and I didn’t mean to push.”
Celia took in a full breath, letting her additional arguments fade from her lips. “Okay then.” Her fog of tiredness returned as the tension between them faded.
“Buying you that addicting, heart-murmur-creating liquid would have made me uncomfortable anyway,” Trenton said, that crooked half smile returning to his face. It was very different from his usual warm one.
“Be careful talking about my coffee that way. We just avoided a fight.” Celia smiled back at him. Then she rubbed her hands over her face. “Do you always get up this early?”
He nodded. “My morning run helps to transition me into the day. I love it.”
She bit her lip to avoid calling him a masochist. Giving up on any liquid momentum, she rounded the wall of the kitchen, shuffling into the living room where he still stood, studying her.
“Come with me,” Trenton said.
Celia’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding, right?”
“No, it really does wonders, especially for the mind.” He reached out a hand, grazing the skin under her eye. “You don’t look rested. Bad dreams again?”
Celia shrugged, looking away. “My subconscious is trying to work on some things.” Her skin tingled from where he’d touched her, but she refused to press her hand against it and let him know.
“This may be a way to quiet it.” Trenton held her gaze. “Or maybe give it even more time to figure things out.”
“I was on my feet all night. There’s no way you’re getting me to slap them around on concrete too.”
“Oh, come on, Celia. Give it a try.” Trenton nudged her shoulder, his smile turning into a bit of a pout. That combined with the way he said her name made her waver. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said. His smile was daunting in its brightness, causing her to turn toward her room. “I’ll change and grab some socks.” There was a weight to that joy of his that she was tempted to leave behind for good, but she still did what she’d said. She had no true workout clothes, but shorts and a tank top seemed appropriate enough. Her fingers paused with a sock rolled up and ready to put on. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to go for a run. Blaming sleep deprivation, she pulled on the socks and went out to join him.
Trenton nodded at her, that sunbeam of a smile still in place, and preceded her into the front entryway. “This will be a good way for you to get a feel for the neighborhood as well. There’s a park to the south of us that’s a particular favorite of mine.” He was the type to untie his sneakers and bent to lace them tight.
“How far to the south?” Celia asked as she slipped on her own flat shoes.
He didn’t answer, and she looked over to find him frowning down at her feet. “Are those the only shoes you have?”
She had no desire to tell him she’d left her fiancé’s place barefoot. “For now.”
“We won’t go too far then. It’s not good to run without ankle support.”
Celia saw a crack to wriggle through. “Maybe it would be better if I waited until I bought better sneakers.”
“That eager to get out of it?” Trenton smiled when she shrugged. “Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow and keep close to the condo.”
She swallowed a sigh, following him out and down the elevator. On the sidewalk, he walked her through a few calf stretches. At the fourth type, she huffed out a breath. “I thought you said we’d take it easy?”
Trenton laughed. “I’m worried about you, but you’re right, we’re ready. Why don’t you set the pace? That way.” He pointed over her shoulder, the opposite direction from her usual bus stop past the fancy supermarket.
Celia nodded, taking off in the direction he indicated. She started out at a slow speed, feeling the hardness of the sidewalk beneath her thin soles. It became a rhythmic slap, and she increased her pace until the tempo didn’t bother her. The fog that had been hanging over her thoughts dissipated as her breathing took its place, not a steady in and out, but a panting whoosh. Still, it was hard to worry about anything when she couldn’t breathe.
“Turn right to get to the park,” Trenton said. There was no pant to the words at all, and she was envious. He remained behind her, his running shoes more silent as he kept pace.
