I know how that goes, since I’m driving around in a truck that’s at least twenty years old, but I say nothing. Anyhow, letting her try to fix it isn’t something I’m willing to do.
We walk in silence a bit more and then I say, “If you need help moving, I can do that too.”
Laney laughs and shakes her head. “Why so willing to help right now?”
I try to feign hurt and then say, “I have sisters. Three of them. I’d hope that people would help them if they were in a similar situation.”
She gives me a closed-lip smile and a nod. “I appreciate that. As an only child, life is different for me in that regard.”
We make it to the stop sign, and this time I take off when she does. I pull ahead at the beginning and then slow down a bit, allowing her to catch up. But then she moves her legs faster, edging ahead of me.
It’s only when I put all my effort into it that we’re neck and neck. The woman is faster than I thought.
We push down the quiet street, the only sound our footsteps along the pavement. As we near the stop sign, Laney falls behind again, slowing her pace just slightly, which puts me ahead. I turn to see if she’s hurt or if something made her slow down.
She looks fine.
We pass through the stop sign with me slightly out front.
My chest is heaving, and I don’t think I’ve done that outside of a game in years. It’s a lot easier for me to concentrate and focus when I’m trying to catch up to someone rather than running to a random point.
“You do that willingly?” I ask, pointing down the road to the stop sign.
Laney laughs and interlocks her hands behind her head, breathing in and out in short spurts.
“Not every day, that’s for sure.” She looks over at me, as if just now realizing that I’d come outside to work out too. “What were you planning on doing?”
My chest is still trying to pull in oxygen, and I say, “That was it.”
I do my best to keep a straight face before grinning.
“No judgment here if that’s how you work,” she says, holding up both hands.
“No. I was planning to go for a jog, and now I’m not sure I’m ready for it. I have a game tonight and don’t wantto pull anything.”
She blinks a few times and says, “Is this for the cardboard box lacrosse?”
Shaking my head, I frown. “There’s no cardboard involved. It’s just box lacrosse.”
“Where do you play?” she asks with a laugh.
Is she teasing me?
“At a facility a few miles from here. You should come. You can see me dominate the field.”
She laughs way too loudly, and I’m instantly humbled.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh like that. It was just funny when you said it that way.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like you’re trying to act cool. You should’ve stopped at the ‘you should come’ part. Then it would’ve been believable.”
I blink a few times, trying to figure out what she means. I might flirt from time to time, but I’m usually not shot down so quickly.
Is that what I was trying to do? Flirt?
Maybe it’s the cold air getting to my brain.
