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Let the girl look all she wants. She doesn’t have a prayer of getting me to flinch.
Haven breaks the stalemate first, shifting her eyes down. If this was a test then I think I passed.
I twirl my keys one last time. “Ready? I’ve got some water bottles in my truck.”
She doesn’t yet know that I’ll be doing the driving. This ismyfield trip and I want to see her tucked into the passenger seat and relaxing for the ride.
“Hold on.” She dashes back into the room.
The door remains open. I watch as she crouches beside her twin and murmurs something in Lita’s ear. Whatever she says is longer than a simple goodbye. She kisses her sister’s cheek before rising and joining me in the hallway.
“Can I ask what you said to Lita?”
She slides her purse strap over her shoulder and tries to walk faster than me. She fails and pauses with a sigh.
“That’s just between me and my sister.” A crease of distress appears between her brows. “No offense. I’m not trying to be rude.”
“No offense taken.” The urge to haul her to my chest and comfort her is sudden, unexpected. Almost overpowering. “Thank you for saying yes to our date.”
I’m wrong to assume she’ll roll her eyes again. Or sneer that this is not a ‘date’ at all.
She does nothing of the kind.
Instead, a blush colors her cheeks as she fights a smile. “Thank you for inviting me, Conner.”
And with those reluctant words, I know that Haven Marchenko has just staked an unintentional claim on my heart.
Chapter7
Haven
Once upon a time, I was a superior athlete.
In those high school days of yesteryear I enjoyed being one of the top jock girls, respected in every sport I touched, most likely to win an athletic scholarship. There was nothing at all to waking up at the crack of dawn and running five miles without feeling a twinge of pain.
It seems that things have changed.
Today I can’t scale a shallow hill without panting and stumbling and making a general ass out of myself in front of one of the world’s finest athletes.
How fucking mortifying.
The stitch in my lower side after a mere twenty minutes on the trail leaves me feeling like an eighty-year-old woman with a lifelong smoking habit.
When was the last time I got any real exercise at all?
I don’t remember. But as I cling to a convenient boulder and attempt to breathe normally while waiting for the cramp in my side to disappear, I’m miserably embarrassed for myself.
Conner, who trots along without breaking a sweat because he has the stamina of Thor, turns around when he notices I’ve fallen behind again.
“Good idea. Let’s take a break. I was just thinking that I need a minute to rest.”
He’s trying to salvage my pride. This only makes me cringe harder.
Glinda’s Peak isn’t exactly Mount Everest. The rocky knob just north of the Em City skyline is a favorite local recreation spot. Today there’s no shortage of families taking advantage of the excellent weather.
Conner plunks down beside me as two boys who can’t be more than ten years old scamper into view and run up the trail. They are followed at a more leisurely pace by a woman holding the hand of a tiny girl and offering bright words of encouragement.
“Look at you go, Jessie. We’ve almost caught up to your brothers.”
