I stepped into her line of vision before we reached blackmail level, where she’d pay me a million dollars to never tell anyone what I’d just witnessed.
Lauren startled, landing back on her hands before pulling out her earbuds. “What are you doing here?” She turned to look at her roommate. “Jenny Lynn Baker, why is he here?”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “She’s normally nicer than this.”
“I feel honored knowing I bring out the worst in her.” I held out the dish from Lauren’s mom with my note taped on top. I had been planning for her to read it when I wasn’t in grabbing distance.
But no. She took the pan and ripped off the note, unfolding it and reading it to herself before a hint of a smile played across her face. I’d initially planned to go with a dig at her lack of cooking skills, but that was Parker’s idea of a joke so I just wrote:Consider this another favor owed. I accept cookies.
There was a long silence, and then Jenny clapped her hands together and tucked them under her chin. “I just forgot I have to run an errand.” She grabbed her keys off the hook by the door and escaped before we could react, making it pretty clear she’d made up an excuse to leave us alone together. Maybe she lived in mortal fear of awkward pauses.
I scrambled for a conversation thread. “Going running?”
“Yep.” Lauren ran her hands over the top of her hair, messing up her ponytail before she pulled out the rubber band and fixed it. Her legs looked especially long and shapely in the black leggings she was wearing, but I only allowed myself a quick glance.
“Where do you go?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nope. It’s my spot. I don’t want you showing up there and ruining it.”
I crossed my arms, channeling an attitude of deep offense. “How would I ruin it?”
“With your presence. I thought that was obvious.” She got to her feet and moved to the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle off the counter. “Time to go, intruder.”
She opened her door for me and gestured for me to leave, which I did. I wasn’t nearly as annoying as she thought I was.
“I bet my running spot is better than yours.” I threw it out casually as I started to walk away. Amble would be a better word. I was ambling away, which basically meant I’d taken about three slow steps.
“You think I’m tempted by that?” She followed me out and turned to lock her door.
“Maybe. Does your spot have hurdles you can jump over, just for the fun of it?”
“Are you hoping for an invitation so you can tag along with me?”
I made a face. “No. I’m trying to getyouto tag along withme. Because my running spot is better than yours.”
“Because of the hurdles?” She shook her head, trying not to laugh before looking me up and down. “Are you sure you’re up for that? I don’t think you should attempt to leap over hurdles in jeans. Unless you’d like to sing soprano from now on. And let me just say, I’d be okay with that. I fully support you in your choices.”
“I’ll be fine. My jeans are relaxed, unlike those uptight ones your boyfriend was wearing today.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Too soon. Sorry.”
She took off past me down the corridor to the stairs, making her keys jingle in her hand.
“So, is that a yes?”
“To what?” she offered over her shoulder.
“To check out my running spot. This is a limited time offer. If you reject me, I’ll go home and eat Oreos while lying on a pile of clean laundry I’m not folding and watch TV. My fitness and life skill goals will be completely wasted for the day. All because you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. Mostly.” She reached the bottom of the stairs and let out a long, exasperated breath. “Okay, let’s be real here for a second. I know I have long legs, but I’m a slow runner. Like fifteen-minute-mile slow. And my face gets all blotchy and red. I also keep tissues in my pocket because sometimes my nose runs when I’m breathing hard. Still want to flirt it up with me?”
“I want to be friends. We’re adults now. Isn’t it about time?” It was time. For once, I wasn’t joking. Something had to change, even if it was just for today. I wanted to be around her as much as she’d let me, and I was tired of fighting that instinct.
She shrugged. “I’ll follow you to your special running spot. We’ll see about the friend thing.” There was some bitterness clinging to the word ‘friend,’ but I’d take the slightly wilted olive branch she was offering and go with it.
I got in my truck and drove slowly enough that there was no way she could claim she got lost on our way to the middle school. And I prayed the hurdles were still set up. They were left out more often than not. They really did make running more fun. There was something about rounding the track and knowing you could go all gazelle for thirty seconds that was extra motivating.
