I jumped up and started grabbing plates to clean up. “I should get back home.”
Jay nodded toward the plates. “Leave it. I’ll have Jax do the dishes later since he’s crashing here.”
I waved him off. “Go get ready for your call. And let’s have dinner before you fly out.”
He nodded and stared at me and Jax a beat before leaving the room. It was his way of giving his brother space.
Space I didn’t want or need.
Jax glanced at my phone that pinged again. “Something got you in a rush to get back?”
I shook my head and wondered if he would be jealous that Rome was the one texting me. “I just need to get back.”
“You didn’t eat anything.”
“I’m not going to eat and then jog back home, Jax.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“If I don’t run home, I’ll be too wired later.” Not that I needed an excuse to not drive with him. I could barely be in the same room alone with him without feeling something. The same car was out of the question.
He stood, walking toward Jay’s bedrooms. “Wait a minute. I’ll go with you, all right?”
“Um ...” He was already out of the room when I asked, “Why?”
Throwing my hands up, I decided I wasn’t waiting for an answer. Beelining for Jay’s front door, I figured I could text Jay later about my abrupt departure.
I was halfway down the street when Jax yelled, “You were supposed to wait.”
“I never said I would,” I managed between breaths.
His footsteps gained on me and before I knew it, his step was in sync just behind mine.
I looked over and he was just behind me, keeping pace. It dredged up memories of us years ago. Like a predator, he’d always kept me so close, just within his sight and grasp. I wondered if he was hungry enough to take another bite.
Our proximity was dangerous. I smelled him, and it was just like I remembered. Mint and sandalwood shaving cream was all around me. Every one of his footsteps had me imagining how much of a perfect machine he was when he worked out. It was like some gym gurus came together and built his muscles for advertising. His fitted T-shirt showed off his chest, his abs, and his muscular shoulders.
As his tennis shoes hit the pavement, his calf muscles took the impact gracefully. Every stride was fluid. His muscles stretched and bunched, drawing my eyes to them along with every other part of my body. The way he ran reminded me of how he moved doing other things. Things I shouldn’t be remembering.
I didn’t take any side routes. I needed to get home, away from him. The next two miles, we ran in silence with stolen glances. Every time I looked over at him, my body remembered another something. No sort of memory suppression can last when your first love is running alongside you, sweat dripping from his face, his neck, his arms.
Everywhere.
My heart was racing, and I was sweating.
It wasn’t from the run.
I willed myself to stop drooling over him and make it home without trying to jump my silent running partner. Instead, I figured I needed to push myself harder. I picked up speed, sprinting the last block to the apartments.
He matched my stride effortlessly.
I wanted to curse him out loud for it.
As we slowed at my apartment building, I turned to face him, totally out of breath. His thin sheen of sweat had me wondering just what I must look like now. Without being able to even muster up a quick wave, I bent over and put my hands on my knees.
He chuckled as he stood over me. I’m not too proud to say I didn’t care that he was mocking my exhaustion. I was just happy his shadow blocked the sunlight.
The breeze cooled me quickly enough, and I attempted to gather myself as I straightened. Smoothing my hair back and then resorting to pulling out my ponytail to tie it all back more tightly, I eyed him. “I’m not sure why you decided to jog with me but you can go now.”