Ready to Run (I Do, I Don't 1)

She kept her ears tuned for the telltale sound of footsteps gaining on her. At first there was nothing, and she stifled the surge of disappointment that his determination to avoid her even extended to this.

Then she felt the air change, heard his footsteps, heavier than hers but just as fast. No. Faster.

Before she could register what was happening, Luke breezed by her without so much as a glance her way.

Only when he’d passed her did she give in to the grin. Game on.

She let him open a lead on her, just for a second, lulling him into complacency, hoping he’d burn up his energy before he learned what she was made of.

Then she picked up her speed, relishing the way her body

thrummed, her blood pumping, breath coming just a bit quicker as she exerted herself to pass him.

The look of surprise on his face as she pulled even was worth the strain of her underused muscles, the slight burn in her lungs. Jordan was fast, but it had been years since she’d gone all out, and Luke, being a man in excellent shape, was a more-than-worthy opponent.

Luke increased his speed to match hers, and for several minutes they ran nearly neck and neck, each pulling ahead for short periods of time, only to have the other draw even.

Her muscles started to scream and she felt a surge of irritation. She really hadn’t planned on losing.

But just when she would have slowed to a jog, conceded his victory, he tugged his earbuds free and bunched the cord in his hand even as he kept up the near-sprint. “To the fence post?”

His words came around harsh pants, revealing that she wasn’t the only one straining, and it was precisely the encouragement she needed to push through.

“You’re on,” she managed.

Jordan put every ounce of her training, every bit of her competitive spirit (and, okay, maybe a little lingering anger about Luke’s cruel words at the bar), into those last several feet.

She ran all in, body and soul.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stay even with her, not falling behind but not pulling ahead either.

Four feet. Three feet. Two…

The fence-post finish line passed in a blur out of the corner of her left eye, and she gradually let her body ease up, allowing straining muscles to slow to an easy run, then a jog, then finally a walk.

Hands on hips, she caught her breath and turned to face her opponent.

Luke had stopped a while back, hands on knees as he sucked in big gulps of air, eyes locked on the ground between his feet.

She started to walk back toward him, and when he lifted his face, she felt his grin like a punch in the gut—it was the first real smile she’d seen from him. At least the first directed at her.

It made her feel warm in a million ways that had nothing to do with the fact that she’d just run her heart out like she hadn’t in years.

He slowly straightened. “Gotta say, City. Think that’s the first time a woman’s ever given me a run for my money. You didn’t let up, not even once.”

“Neither did you,” she said. “You’re in good shape.”

He gave her a once-over. “I’m in great shape, and you still beat me by a half step.”

She grinned, pleased by the acknowledgment of her victory, even though she wasn’t at all sure who’d passed the fence post first. “I ran cross-country in high school. Got a scholarship to college.”

They’d thought she’d have a shot at the Olympic team, but she didn’t say that. She’d missed the cutoff, just barely, and though she tried not to have regrets, the disappointment still stung a bit.

He nodded in understanding, and there were several moments of silence with only the sounds of the cheerful birds and their own uneven breathing.

Jordan lifted a hand to push a sweaty strand of hair back behind her ear. “You come here to run often?”

“Every day. I live on the lake.” He flinched as though realizing he’d just given the enemy way too much information.