Chapter Two Maya
Chapter Two
Maya
“Only you could make running look hot,” Emily, my best friend, said, eyeing me with her bright-blue gaze as she made her coffee.
I had just finished my five miles and returned to the apartment that we shared with two other roommates and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it with water from the sink, and guzzled down every drop.
She continued to stare at me while she sipped from her mug. “I also need to say, it takes a ballsy, confident woman to run in all white, even when she’s not on her period. Girl, I’m applauding your courage.”
A detail she knew since our cycles had been synced for years.
I wiped the back of my mouth and laughed. “Why do you think white is so daring? Hot pink, in my opinion, is far worse. It’s just so loud and extra.”
“Because I can see everything.” Her eyes widened but didn’t drop. “And I mean everything.”
“I go out at six in the morning. There’s hardly anyone awake and outside to even see my everything.”
“Which is something else I want to talk about.” She leaned against the edge of the counter and faced me.
Our galley kitchen was no more than five feet wide, so while I stood in front of the fridge, little room separated us.
“Before we moved into this new place, you went running maybe once a week. Now it’s every day at the same time.
You didn’t even skip Monday after you spent half the night at your mom’s helping her get settled in her new apartment.
” As her eyes narrowed, her stare intensified.
“Oh shit, I get it now.” Her eyes returned to normal size, and she was suddenly nodding and laughing.
I reached past her and added more water to my glass. “Get what?”
“There’s a guy. That’s the reason for all of this.”
I turned off the faucet. “I wouldn’t say it like that.”
“No? Then how would you say it?” When I didn’t respond, she added, “Someone is putting the biggest smile on your face, which you had on when you walked in and”—she nodded toward me—“you’re still wearing.
And that someone is obviously out there at the same time as you, which explains why you’re a daily runner out of the blue and getting up at the ass crack of dawn.
” She gave me her profile. “Tell me I’m wrong. ”
I filled my cheeks with the lukewarm water and eventually swallowed. “He has green eyes, Em. Green.” I sighed.
“Keep going.”
“He’s around six three, I’d say. Super broad, with muscles and more muscles and”—I inhaled a loud breath—“even more muscles on top of those. You know what I’m talking about. Like the kind of guy who has the power to pick you up and throw you against a wall.”
“Ravaging every inch of you and fucking every ounce of breath out of your body.” She released the air she’d been holding. “Yes, I know that kind. They live rent-free in my fantasies.”
I gently banged the back of my head on the cabinet several times, trying to knock some sense into myself. “I’ve seen him every morning for the last two weeks.” I wiped the sweat off my forehead. “And this morning, he saved my life.”
“He . . . what?”
I explained what happened with the biker, each layer of the story causing her to drink more coffee, to the point where she was nearing the end of her second cup.
“He picks you up like you weigh nothing. He protects you as if you’re his.
He keeps holding you even though the biker already passed.
And then he asks you for a next time, which is just a guy’s way of saying he wants more, but that word is too much for their anticommitment brains to handle.
” She took another drink, set down her mug, and put her hands on my shoulders.
“Just so you know, you’re going to be dating Mr. Green Eyes before you know it. ”
“He doesn’t date.”
She rolled her eyes. “In the past, maybe. But you’re different.”
“I’m not going to be doing anything with him.” I put my glass in the sink and adjusted the sides of my sports bra. “But am I crushing over him? Uh-huh. Probably a lot harder than I should.”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
“Let’s discuss my dating history, shall we?
” I held my thumb. “High school boyfriend: total loser.” I moved to my pointer finger.
“First college boyfriend: cheated.” I grabbed my middle finger.
“Second, and also final, college boyfriend: liar and manipulator.” I gripped my ring finger.
“First postgrad boyfriend: mooch, cheap-ass, and wanted to live the rest of his life in his mother’s basement.
After him came two, maybe three assholes.
” I tapped my pinkie as though the assholes weren’t even worthy of a finger and said, “And the last guy catfished me.”
“So you haven’t had the greatest luck with men.”
I held out the sides of her long, blond hair, which was still curled even though she’d worn it up yesterday.
“Trust me, Mr. Green Eyes will be no different. Anyone who’s that handsome, that cocky, and has that body—they’re nothing but trouble.
” I smiled and closed my eyes for just a second.
“But knowing he stares at my ass for over four miles every morning gives me this weird satisfaction, and the way he swooped in and played hero definitely makes me swoon.”
She put her hands on top of mine. “It makes me swoon too. So does the date you’re going to have with him tomorrow.”
I moved my fingers out from beneath hers and shook my head before I walked toward my tiny bedroom to get ready for work. “It’s not a date,” I said over my shoulder.
Those were the same words I repeated in my head the next morning when I headed out of my building to start my run.
Since I’d left my earbuds in my room, assuming I would be talking to Jordan rather than listening to my true crime podcast, I had nothing to focus on aside from the silence as I made my way down the block.
What that quietness did was cause my brain to stir. And each rotation brought me right back to him.
A man that, up until yesterday, had been a total stranger.
A sexy stranger. An intriguing stranger. A stranger who spent as much time in the gym as he did running, because hitting the pavement multiple miles a day couldn’t define muscles like his.
Right after Emily and I had moved into our new apartment, I’d gone out before sunrise to relieve the stress that was eating at me.
The financial burden of first and last month’s rent, plus the security deposit—along with helping my mom, who was in a similar situation with her apartment—all while picking up overtime to make it happen was too much.
I couldn’t breathe.
But once I’d laid eyes on Jordan, the anxiety paused, and a tingling took over my body. As soon as I returned home, the anxiety came right back. But those five miles had brought on a stillness in my chest, and I soaked up every second.
That wasn’t the only factor that sent me out each day.
I could add Jordan’s handsomeness to that list, his smile and presence. Even the way he always wished me good morning was so incredibly hot. A tease of sorts that made me want more, and that was what drove me to the crosswalk where I met him each morning, arriving at the same time as him.
God, he was so devilishly attractive. I had no idea what his appearance would be like in a few hours, if that was when he went to work or maybe he had a later shift, but now he was hot.
His messy ash-brown hair looked like I’d just tugged on it, and thick, dark scruff covered his neck, cheeks, chin, and that sexy spot above his top lip. A jaw that was square, a solid sloped nose, and hooded green eyes, staring at me through his long lashes.
I couldn’t hide the smile. It was his green eyes—I swore they were making me melt straight into the ground. “Good morning, Jordan.”
“Maya.” He nodded. “Cobalt blue. I like it.”
I remembered what Em had said about my all-white ensemble revealing everything. I wondered if he’d seen as much as she had.
Sweat began to seep through my pores, and it wasn’t from my warm-up. “Shall we?”
He held out his hand, signaling me to lead, and I instantly noticed the muscle in his forearm and the dark hair and veins. A flash of a memory came through my head of how that arm had felt when it had been wrapped around me.
“After you,” he said.
“Are you actually going to run with me today?”
“I run with you every day.”
“No.” I laughed. “You run behind me. That’s not running with me.”
He kept my pace. “I can’t imagine you’d want me to be next to you for over four miles. Considering we’ve never spoken, that would be a bit strange, don’t you think?”
“So why do you go behind me and not ahead?”
He gave me a small but powerful smile. “What can I say . . . I like the view.”
I let out a huff of air. “Well, that’s honesty if I’ve ever heard it.”
“Do you want me to lie? Fine. You’re faster than me.”
Even his words had steam and a slight edge, and when combined with his voice, it was sensory overload.
“Tell me about you, Jordan—shit.” I came to a screeching halt as a Porsche convertible zoomed down the side street we were about to pass.
When the driver got to the intersection, she didn’t stop for us even though she was supposed to.
She took a right as if we weren’t even standing there.
“I swear, when you own a car like that, it’s a requirement to drive like a total asshole. ”
“Sounds like you’re not a fan of speed.”
“And people who waste hundreds of thousands of dollars on something that just takes you from point A to B.” I smiled at him.
“And bikes, especially when they’re on the verge of killing me.
” I shook my head and resumed the jog. “Back to you, Jordan. I want to get to know the person I agreed to run with.”
“Are you asking if I drive a Porsche? Or if I bike when I’m not running?” He chuckled.
“Oh, you’re one of the fancy ones who actually has a car and doesn’t take the T or the bus.” When he didn’t respond, I added, “I hope it’s not a Porsche . . . or a bike.”