Silas grins and he looks so sweet and innocent I can’t help my own lips tilting up in an answering smile. What is it about thisMr. Nice Guy that just does it for me? He’s far too sunshiney. Proper.
That should annoy me.
Instead, I find myself drawn to him.
“Fine.” Silas grabs my hand and pulls me through the store so I can grab my purse. “Follow me to my house?”
I halt. “Wait. I don’t have clothes to run in.”
He hands me one of our logo’d bags. “I took the liberty of putting together a workout outfit for you. And you’re already wearing tennis shoes.”
I look down at my feet. He’s not wrong. The tennis shoes looked good with the athletic dress this morning, plus the idea of having comfortable feet all day had sealed the deal on my footwear choice. I guess I’m out of excuses.
“Okay…”
Silas chuckles, pushing on my lower back and escorting me out of the boutique. I wait in the heat while he locks up, getting more and more worried.
“I have sweat dripping down my back just standing here.”
Silas shakes his head with a grin. “You’ll be fine. We won’t go fast or far. And the trail by my house is mostly in the shade.”
I wince as we walk toward our vehicles. “It’s not the sun, it’s the humidity.”
“Sweating is good detox,” he coos as he opens my driver side door and helps me in.
He’s got an answer for everything. He shuts my door and I crank the air-conditioning, which cons me into thinking maybe it won’t be so bad after all. I follow him through the Square and out into the countryside south of town. He pulls up to a house that looks a lot like Nana’s with the three gables and the shutters around the windows, except it doesn’t have flowery pillows on the chairs on the front porch. And there’s far fewer hanging pots of flowers. Just one dead one.
He jogs around to help me out of my car, his hand in mine as he leads us into his house. The guy doesn’t even lock his door. Jesus. “Welcome to my house!”
He takes me on a quick tour. Hardwood floors, a dated kitchen, but new paint on the walls. It’s sparsely furnished but what he does have is good quality and looks comfortable.
“Mom was forever coming over here and dropping off decor that I didn’t ask for. She said the place didn’t feel like a home, but I was saving all my money for renovation projects. The bathrooms are all updated. Next up will be the kitchen, but I have to get the boutique operating on its own two feet before I can sink money into that project.”
I spin around, impressed. It’s two stories and clearly over twenty-five hundred square feet. Until the prospect of moving in with Nana, I figured I’d never own my own place, let alone a house this big. “I think your home is lovely.”
Silas pulls me into a hug that feels…nice. We stand there with our arms around each other for several long moment like we’re friends, along with being fuck buddies. It’s a nicer hug than my ex ever gave me, which kind of makes me sad. I put up with so much in that relationship and still got the boot.
“Can we just take a nap and call it a jog?” I ask into his chest. His rumble of laughter makes me smile.
He untangles from me and manhandles me into facing the hallway leading off the living room. “No. Go change, storm cloud.” And then he swats my ass. Hard.
I yelp and give him a death glare. Which he completely ignores by looking at his watch pointedly.
“Ticktock.”
I flip him off but move to the bathroom to change. I look like an Instagram fitness girlie when I look at myself in the mirror in the clothes Silas packed for me. I don’t look like myself, even with the shaggy hair, purple nails, and the piercings running upboth ears. I tilt my head to the side and purse my lips. I don’t look bad though. Just…different.
Silas is already stretching when I join him in the living room. I don’t bother. This run is going to hurt no matter if I stretch or not.
“Let’s get this over with,” I deadpan.
“Just what I like the women in my life to say,” he drawls in return.
Silas is all smiles as he leads me outside and to the trail that starts across the street from his house. The trail is dirt, and true to his word, a canopy of trees creates much-needed shade. It’s still like ninety degrees out with matching humidity. Basically, I’m discovering that Mississippi is its own sauna in August. And this delusional jackass wants me torunin said sauna.
Silas moves me to the inside of the trail, away from the street, which is weird, but whatever. He breaks into a jog and I copy his gait. My arms and legs all surge into a motion that feels highly unnatural. I’m sure I look like a gazelle on its first day of life…all limbs and zero enthusiasm. The burn in my calves starts within the first minute. The stitch in my side happens during minute two. By minute three I have sweat streaming into both eyes, and I’m pretty sure this is how it feels to die in a house fire.
“Are we…almost…done?” I pant.
