“About thirty seconds. You ready to get up and actually do some running with me? This might be the last really nice weekend before it gets too hot to run outside, and I hate treadmills.”
“I’m ready.” I lifted myself up and flipped my legs around to inspect them. A little bit of road rash on one knee. Nothing a good shower couldn’t take care of.
She got to her feet and held a hand out to help me up. I imagined tugging on it and letting her land right back down with me. Holding her. Making her laugh. Kissing her lower lip and watching her eyes flutter closed. I tucked those images away in a practiced compartmentalizing of my feelings and let her help me to my feet. Friends didn’t imagine crossing boundaries that weren’t welcome.
She set the pace, which was, as she’d warned, really slow. But I didn’t care about a good workout, and I’d taken my teasing far enough. Instead, I just listened.
I learned more about her in the next half-hour than I had in several years of catching bits and pieces. Lauren had problems with insomnia and bought used paperbacks to read when she couldn’t sleep. Reading on her phone kept her up. She worried about her roommate because some guy at work had backed out of a date with her for mysterious reasons. Most of her stories involved Jenny. The two of them had been roommates for almost a year.
“Where did you meet Denver?” I asked, weaving through the hurdles as we came around the track again. We’d jumped over them on the first two go-rounds, but after that, we treated them like pathways.
She looked at me funny. “Why do you want to know that?”
“I don’t know. I’m curious, I guess.”
“I met him at a restaurant. I was with Jenny. It was crowded, with a long wait, and he and the friend he was with offered to share a table with us.”
“Hmm.”
“No jokes?”
“What’s there to joke about? The dude’s got game. I’m impressed.”
Lauren slowed to a walk, and I matched her pace.
After a minute of silence she asked, “How come you don’t date? Or do I just not hear about it?”
“I’m picky, I guess.” I could practically feel her roll her eyes in reaction, but she was the one who asked. What did she expect me to say?
“And what’s your type? What are you looking for?”
“Tall blondes with brown eyes. Feisty. Speedy in a truck but slower on foot.” I turned, as if surprised to see her jogging next to me. “Oh, look. There’s one right here.”
She slapped me away good-naturedly, but I saw the question in her eyes. She didn’t want to believe there was truth in my teasing, but she still… wondered. Good.
14
___________
Lauren
The sun was setting, showing off with a blaze of pink and orange as only an Arizona sky could do. It was time to go. I hated how comfortable I felt with Clay, because I knew it wouldn’t last. I could count on one hand the number of times it was just the two of us together, and things were different when other people were around. Parker would not be hearing about us hanging out together this afternoon. Not from me, and certainly not from Clay.
“Water break?” I asked, heading towards my truck.
Clay jogged over and jumped up into the bed of his truck where he kept a cooler with cold water bottles. The dude was prepared for anything, I’d give him that.
He came over and leaned against my truck door next to me, drinking water and staring at the sunset.
“So, where’s your super-secret running spot?” he asked.
“Not telling.” I knew he’d ask, and I had no intention of sharing, if for no other reason than because he wanted to know.
“That’s fair. I’d hate to ruin it with my presence.”
“How’s your knee?” I leaned over to have a look. “I guess it is too hairy to throw a Band-Aid on there.”
“You’re calling my knees hairy?” He covered them up so I couldn’t hurt them anymore with my insults.
