“Just wondering. I do.”
“I could have guessed.”
I pinch my brows together. “Why?”
“Because you’re sporty. I looked up triathlons.”
“You didn’t know what they were?”
“I could guess the gist, but I didn’t know which sports were involved. Cycling, swimming, and running?” He whistles.
“Yup. My favourite distance is super sprint.”
“That sounds short.”
I snort-laugh. “Well, it’s the shortest distance in adult competition. You do a four-hundred-metre swim, a ten-kilometre bike ride, and a two point five-kilometre run.”
“That’s not short. I couldn’t even dream of being that fit.”
“Sure you could. You should come running with me sometime.”
“I’d slow you down.”
“Maybe, but it would be fun. I set off from mine at six every morning and jog to the canal towpath. I go along there for a bit. How far depends on how energetic I’m feeling and how much time I have. And then double back.”
Jacob gives me a thin smile. Does that mean he won’t join me for a jog soon? Not that I expected him to.
“If you’re interested in starting to jog, I could give you a nought to five K programme,” I say.
“Umm—”
“It’s okay. It’s my hobby. Not yours. Forget it.”
“It was a kind offer.”
My cheeks become hot. Why am I blushing? “I’ll keep the offer open.”
It’s not the only open offer waiting for him. The other one involves my mouth around his cock. Another thing that won’t happen soon. Or ever.
“Do you still have my sword?” I ask.
He coughs. “No.”
“No?”
“It’s been three weeks. It deflated.”
“That’s a shame. I guess you can’t just blow it to re-inflate it.”
He chokes and splutters. I pat him firmly on the back. Mum and Barry stop and turn around.
“What’s going on?” Mum asks.
“I think he swallowed a fly,” I reply innocently.
Barry twists his mouth into a disgusted frown. “I hate it when that happens.”
“I’m fine.” Jacob waves his hand, signalling for us to carry on walking. “Don’t do that again,” he says once Mum and Barry are far enough ahead of us not to overhear our conversation.
