Zack laughs as he settles next to me. “Well, at least take in the view before you kick the bucket. It’s nice.”
He doesn’t sound nearly as breathless as I am. I tilt my head his way but keep my elbows braced on my knees. “Why aren’t you dying?”
He grins. “I run almost every morning. Eight or nine miles. Sometimes more if I have time.”
My eyes bulge. “A day? Every day?”
He shrugs. “Once you get used to it, it’s not that hard.”
“Lies. All lies,” I gasp, trying to work up enough saliva to swallow. My throat feels like it’s on fire. “I’ve never run farther than two miles at once. And I’ve tried. Hard. I even joined a couch to 5k group to stay inspired and focused.”
“Those are good. My gram did that when she was training to run her first half marathon.”
I laugh-groan. “Great. Even your grandmother is in better shape than I am. Way to make me feel like a loser, Halloran.”
He puts his hand on my back, rubbing his palm up and down my aching spine. “You’re not a loser. You just need someone to troubleshoot for you. You’re probably just doing something to sabotage yourself without even realizing it.”
“Like what?”
“Could be lots of things,” he says. “I have a friend who can’t have caffeine before he runs or he gets leg cramps. My ex had to up her calorie intake. She kept tapping out around mile four. Finally, we realized she was just running out of fuel. She added more carbs to her dinners the night before a run and was good to go from then on.”
I perk up at the mention of his ex. He hasn’t been very forthcoming about his past relationships, and I can’t help but be curious. “Was that the dentist?”
He nods. “Yeah. She runs marathons now, so there’s hope for you.”
I snort. “Doubtful. Highly doubtful. But good for her. Are you two still in touch?”
“We’re social media friends,” he says, his expression remaining peaceful as he takes in the view. “And we had a beer last time I was in Kansas City.”
I try to tamp down my nosy side, but my mouth has a mind of its own. “This was the woman you asked to move to Hidden Kill Bay, right? The one you dated for a long time?”
“Yeah. Marcy.”
“So, it was serious with her,” I muse, deciding that if I’m in for a penny, I’m in for a pound. “Isn’t it hard being just friends now? I mean, with all that intense history between you?”
He turns to me, his gaze connecting with mine with a sizzle I feel over every inch of my too-hot skin. “It wasn’t all that intense.” He pulls in a breath and exhales with a shake of his head. “Weirdly enough, I was just thinking about that on the way up here. About her. It’s like you said—I’ve always gotten together with someone I randomly happened to connect with. It’s not intentional and never a case of looking for a partner who checks my boxes.” His brows lift. “To be honest, I’ve never thought about the things I wanted or needed. I mean, beyond the basic I-want-to-be-with-a-decent-human-I-like-to-kiss aspect of it. It sounds stupid, I know, but I think I expected fate to take care of it for me.”
I lean back against the bench, grateful that my stomach muscles have decided to stop trembling. “It’s not stupid. A lot of people think that way. It’s the story we’re told, right? From every animated fairy tale we watched as kids to the songs and stories we listen to as we grow up? We’ll meet someone, and it will be like magic. Boom.” I wiggle my fingers. “Sparkles and hearts. Destiny fulfilled and we live happily ever after without having to work for it.”
He winces. “Yeah. Something like that. It seems so lazy, though, when you stop to think about it. Lazy and entitled. Everything else, I know I have to work my ass off. I sure as hell wouldn’t expect fate to drop those things in my lap.”
I shift on the bench, laying a hand on his knee. “Give yourself a break. If we noticed the cultural conditioning, it wouldn’t work so well or be so hard to shake. I’m sure I’d be the same way if I hadn’t grown up watching the fate thing fail over and over again for my mom.”
“You’re right, but still…” He turns back to the view, and I follow his gaze. The scene is idyllic, all rolling hills dotted with farms and gorgeous old barns that make me want to pick up my pastels again.
“Wow,” I breathe. “That’s pretty. Totally worth losing a lung to see.” I glance back at him, knowing I should let this go, but I guess I’ve given up on making responsible decisions today. “But still what?”