I should have anticipated she might stay here, should have prepared for it.
My body moved closer on autopilot. She was focused on the treadmill screen. Soon, I stood close enough to see she’d run two miles at a healthy clip of six miles per hour.
Brenna’s shocked expression met mine in the mirror.
Her steps faltered for a moment—long enough to lose her footing, stumble, and careen off the back of the treadmill. I moved on instinct, rushing to catch her as she shot off themachine. Her body fell into mine, her full weight pushing into my chest.
Almost a decade had passed since I was allowed to hold her, but still, my arms instinctively wrapped around her. For a moment, I forgot our history. How we fell out of each other’s lives. Every reason keeping us apart.
With our gazes locked, I was once again a kid in love for the first time. With her.
Brenna cleared her throat, eyes darting away from me. She pulled out of our accidental embrace… and then she just stared—pink lips parted, rich brown eyes wide as saucers, cheeks flushed scarlet.
I know the fucking feeling.
“Brenna Quinn,” I said, pleased my tone didn’t reflect the chaos brewing inside me. “Itisstill Quinn, right?”
She pushed away sweaty strands of hair matted to her face, her large diamond engagement ring glinting in the light. Taunting me.
“Y-yes.”
“Not for much longer, it seems.”
Brenna hadn’t seen me the day of her engagement. She didn’t even know I’d been there. My call-up to the Nashville Blitz, the major league affiliate for my Triple-A team, the Houston Sharks, had been last minute. Stomach flu had taken down the team, particularly the pitching staff. Not that an earlier call-up would’ve made a difference; I didn’t expect Brenna to keep tabs on my career.
She followed my gaze to her left hand. “Wh-what?”
Brenna had never liked surprises and needed time to prepare for situations. I remained silent, giving her space to adjust.
Eventually she said, “I haven’t decided.”
“The ring says otherwise.”
Her cheeks darkened. “I meant about changing my name.”
Brenna carefully climbed onto the treadmill rails and stopped the belt. She sipped from her water bottle while I shamelessly stared at her ass, on full display in those pants. Thank all that was holy her reappearance in my life would be short-lived. Brenna Quinn was always beautiful, but these last six years had been more than generous to her. Calling her gorgeous did her a disservice.
I looked away before she caught me.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she continued.
She’d stopped being my business a long time ago. Still, I pressed her, needing the reminder that she belonged to someone else. Being in Middlebury, with her, was fucking with my sense of reality.
“What would it be if you changed it?”
She remained atop the treadmill, looking down at me. Her right hand gripped her left wrist, the same nervous tick from our childhood. “Hayes.”
“Brenna Hayes.” I clucked my tongue. “Not terrible.” When we were dating, we tried her first name with my last name to see how it sounded.Better than Brenna fucking Hayes.
“Glad I have your approval.” She stepped down and strolled past me. “Treadmill’s all yours.”
I spun around. “That’s it?”
Now that Brenna stood in the same room as me, I couldn’t ignore her. Leo was right—she wasn’t the kind of woman to be ignored. Not because shedemandedattention. I was just a pathetic moth drawn to her flame, even if it burned me to death.
Brenna paused but didn’t turn around. “What would you like me to say, Nathan?”
“You could start withThanks,Nathan,for stopping me from falling on my ass.”
