“What?” His murmur is bemused.
“And I get off work around four thirty. I’m thinking that on non-training nights, I should start taking the bus again. It will be good for me to get back in the habit… You’ve been so kind, and I don’t want to keep taking advantage.”
“You’re not…” he rasps. “You don’t have to?—”
“But I want to.”
The only thing I want more than how I’m starting towantGarrett, is to not break my own heart. If the pain of Val stops him from even talking about what happened, he’s not ready for what I want from him.
I’m sure Dr. Nor would challenge me on this.“How do you know he’s not ready, if you don’t ask for what you want?”The dangerous hope simmering inside me also whispers that. But I don’t want to ask that out of fear of finding out that I’m not what he wants. As much as I want this man, I don’t want to lose him. Even if all I have is just his friendship.
“I’m so grateful for you. For everything. Please know this isn’t about me not appreciating you, or enjoying…” Nodding, I take a step back. “Plus, I know you sneak back to the hospital most nights. This way, you don’t have to do that. You can just stay there to do what you need to do before you go home.”
He looks down and then back at me. “Will you let me know when you get home on those nights?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Training. Dark. Raining,” he says quickly.
“What?”
He lets out a breath. “Can I drive you home on training nights, when it’s dark, and when it rains?”
“Okay,” I murmur, trying to ignore that whispered hope that maybe the Southern California drought will end, and the rain will come. It’s dangerous to hope for it, but I am, and that makes me fear that Past Jensen may still be lurking around.
17
MILE SEVENTEEN
IS HE…
Cupid Course is louder than I imagined. The whistles and hoots of spectators collide with the thump of rock music that vibrates in the early morning air. It’s nothing like the 5K I attempted with Anker. There were only around a couple hundred runners and spectators at that race. There must be a thousand here.
I stand, my pulse thudding and fingers curled tight around my cane, soaking it all in.How on earth will Garrett and I hear each other over this?
“Never thought I’d be cheering you on at a race.” Anker bumps my shoulder with his. “It’s like we’ve done someFreaky Fridaysibling swap.”
I smirk. “Guess that means I’ll kill my official time by stopping to flirt with the woman handing me a bottle of water on the track.”
“Onetime… Andyouwon’t let me live it down. If you’d seen her, you would have got it.” He loops his arm around my shoulders. “She had these big brown eyes.”
“I don’t think it was herbig brown eyesthat caught your attention.” I bump his hip with mine.
“My dear sister, you may be so shallow to only check out a woman’sbump dotsbut I am an eyes man. They’re the window into the soul, and the prettiest part of a lady.”
“Is that why mom and dad put child blocker software on the computer when we were teens? Because of your fascination with eyes?” I poke him.
“Women who live in erotic audio houses shouldn’t toss stones.” His tut is laced with humor. “By the way, Sonora told me to wish you luck today.”
My mouth lifts. Anker, indeed, got his head out of his ass and reached out to Sonora. From what I’ve observed in the runner/guide group since then, they appear to have fallen back into their playful exchanges.
“Tell her I said thanks.” I twist to face him; my face flexed into a wry expression. “What color are Sonora’s eyes, by the way?”
“Brown, and drop it.” He points at me. “We’re just friends.”
“Stupid men.” I roll my eyes. “Friends, but you want more.”
Anker may have fucked up, but I don’t think he’s down and out. Not only are his and Sonora’s interactions in the runner’s group more frequent, but I know they are texting almost daily again. He was twenty minutes late for our celebratory dinner for Catherine last week because he was on the phone with Sonora.
