5. Miles
CHAPTER FIVE
Miles
My feet pound against the pavement, our driveway finally coming into view. Thank fuck. I love running, but these ten miles kind of kicked my ass today. My pace slows to a walk as I head up the driveway.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Avery climb out of the driver’s side of a car that’s parked in front of the guesthouse. My steps veer away from the house, heading in her direction.
She’s grabbing several grocery bags from the front seat when I reach her side. “Who’d you steal a car from?” I ask.
She screams, slamming her head against the roof of the car. “What the fuck?” she growls, rubbing her hand over the back of her head.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” I say, my breathing still a little labored from the run.
She doesn’t say a word, just glares at me. I’ve never seen a woman’s glare look quite that sexy. She has the whole angry hotness down pat.
“Am I going to get arrested, too, for aiding and abetting or whatever it is?” I ask.
“Why does everyone think I’m a criminal today?”
I shrug. “I guess you just give off those bad-ass vibes.”
“Being a bad-ass and being a criminal are not the same thing.”
Let’s add sassy and smart to the list of characteristics that are turning me the fuck on.
I reach past her, grabbing the remaining bags in the front seat. She’s trapped between me and the car door.
“So, tell me, Avery. Have you ever been in handcuffs?”
A sinful glimmer crosses her gorgeous hazel eyes. “Yes,” she says confidently.
“Mmm… I feel like that’s a story I would love to hear,” I say, stepping in closer to her.
“I’m sure you would, but you’re awfully sweaty right now,” she says, pressing her palms flat against my chest. She pushes me back, so there are a few inches of space between us. Her hands stay rooted against me, though.
“If I go take a shower, will you tell me the story?”
She bites her lip as we stand there staring at each other. Images of her being handcuffed in the sexy way flash through my mind.
Suddenly, I’m grateful for the little bit of distance between us because my dick definitely likes the dirty place my brain just ventured to.
She breaks eye contact first, turning toward the house. I follow behind, setting the bags on the kitchen counter when we get inside. I pull everything from the bags as she puts it away.
“You still didn’t answer my question about the mystery car,” I say.
“I bought it from a lady named Maggie who lives in town,” she says, putting some berries in the fridge.
“Oh, Maggie Jones. I knew I’d seen that car around town.” I pause, balling up the grocery bags. “Did Will or Owen give you a ride?”
She shakes her head.
“Then how’d you get there?”
“I walked.”
“You didn’t need to do that. One of us would have?—”
She holds up her hand, halting me mid-sentence. “I was fine.” She cringes a little bit. “The altitude kind of kicked my ass, but I managed.” Her eyes rake over my sweat-soaked T-shirt and shorts. “How do you run up here? There’s no oxygen in the air.”
I laugh. “I’ve been running my whole life up here. I don’t know any different, I guess.”
“But why?” she asks, looking utterly baffled.
“I started running when I was in middle school because I’ve always had way too much energy for my own good. It helps me clear my head and not feel so antsy in my own body.”
ADHD at it’s finest.
I wasn’t planning on going that deep with my answer, but it’s out there now. She gives me a warm smile, nodding in understanding.
“You don’t like to run?” I ask.
She shakes her head quickly from side to side. “Uh… no. Not even at a normal altitude. Walking, good. Running, bad.”
I chuckle, sliding the bags into an empty drawer. “I guess I’ll have to try to convert you to the dark side this summer.”
“Good luck with that,” she says with a wink, and I’m pretty sure a piece of my heart just melted. This girl is getting the attention of both my heart and my dick in the same conversation. Wild.
My hand bumps against a textbook that’s sticking over the edge of the kitchen table. My eyes roam over the textbooks, notes, and laptop spread out.
“Are you going to college right now?” I ask.
She leans her hip against the cabinets. “Will really didn’t tell you guys anything, did he?”
“Other than the fact he had found a nanny and when you’d be here, no, he didn’t.”
She nods. “I’m taking my last semester of classes for my master’s degree.”
“That’s awesome,” I say, running my finger over the lettering on one of the books. “What are you studying?”
“Political science.”
“That’s cool. I’ve never met a political scientist before.”
She makes a weird face. “I don’t know if I’d call myself that, but…”
“That’s what you’ve studied. Right?”
She nods.
“Then, that’s what you are.”
“At least in your eyes,” she says, but she’s smiling again. I’ll take it.
I’m not about to tell her what else I see through my eyes when I look at her. Beauty. Intelligence. Fierceness.
And something I don’t want to look away from.
“I’m going to be more of an assistant,” she says, an almost blank expression on her face. “For a little while, at least.”
I don’t say anything because I can tell she isn’t done.
“I have an internship lined up for this fall as a legislative assistant in California,” she continues, but her tone is lacking any emotion I would assume would accompany such an achievement after years of working toward a degree.
“I can’t tell how you feel about that,” I admit.
She smiles. “Neither can I,” she says with a shrug. “Maybe I’ll figure it out this summer.”
I stare into her hopeful eyes. “I hope you do.”