“Are you getting worn out?” She slowed down, stopping at almost the exact place she’d caught her breath yesterday. He’d been on his way back then, from wherever he’d run to. There was no way he could be breathless yet.
“I just want to look at you when I’m talking to you.” He leaned on the half-rotten wooden fence that bordered the overgrown drive-in. She could remember being part of the team that painted it all those years ago.
Tanner had been there, too, though he’d managed to get more paint on her than the wood.
“What are you smiling at?” he asked her.
“Just remembering what a goof you were as a kid.”
He chuckled. “You were pretty goofy yourself.”
“I was the Brain to your Pinky,” she said, grabbing her water bottle from the belt around her waist. Flipping the lid, she took a long, deep swallow. The water was still cool from being refrigerated overnight.
“Funny how everybody always blamed me for our tricks, when they were all your idea,” he said pointedly.
She could feel his gaze on her face, warming her skin like the sun. Pulling the water bottle from her lips she offered it to him. “Want some?”
He shook his head. “I’ll drink when I get home.”
“You should drink while you run. Otherwise you’ll get dehydrated.”
“I only drink when running marathons. I don’t bother with water for short runs.”
Oh, burn. “You run marathons?”
“I have a few. I like running long distances. They clear your mind.”
Van glanced at his legs again. “You don’t look like a long distance runner,” she pointed out, managing to drag her gaze back up to his.
“Are you calling me fat, Butler?” he asked, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Because that’s just rude.” He lifted his arm, curling his bicep up. “I’ll have you know I’m all brawn and muscle. Come on, feel this.”
She shook her head, trying not to laugh at his mock-horrified expression. “It’s okay, I’ll take your word for it.”
“Come on,” he said, reaching for her hand and curling it around his bicep. “Guns of steel, babe.”
Her fingers dug into his hot, taut skin, feeling the iron of his muscles underneath. He was standing close enough that she could smell him, the warm, woodsy essence of his soap made more potent by the heat of his skin.
It was so familiar. A reminder of everything… and how easily they’d thrown it aside. It set her alight and cut through her all at the same time.
“I need to go,” she said, releasing her hold on him and stepping back. Her stomach was swirling with nausea and she gasped for fresh air. “I’m late for something.”
Tanner blinked at her sudden change of mood. “Is everything okay?”
“I just remembered I promised to pick something up for Zoe.” She was flailing around for excuses. This was what they’d ended up as, two people who were completely polite to each other. Because anything else hurt too much. “You carry on running, I’m heading back.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, it’s okay,” she replied quickly. “You said yourself that you like running distances. My runs are five miles at the most.” She managed to smile at him. “Thanks for the company. I’ll see you around.”
She turned on the ball of her foot and launched herself down the road, pushing her legs to speed despite the protest of her muscles. It didn’t stop her hearing his sad goodbye, or from remembering the hurt look on his face when he realized she really didn’t want him running with her.
And if she ran home so fast that her lungs were screaming by the time she arrived at the end of her overgrown yard? Well that was okay. Maybe she deserved it. God knew the hurt felt pretty good right now.
Chapter Seven
“So that’s two months’ rent,” Regan said, writing a receipt out for Van as she sat in a guest chair at Regan’s desk. “Next month’s is due on the twenty-second.”
“Do you have a way my mom can pay it automatically?” Van asked. “I’m trying to get her into online payments so she doesn’t forget.”