Chapter 18
Brody
My alarm went off at five, just like always. I got out of bed, pulled my workout gear on, and entered Selena’s room using my master key. She couldn’t be trusted to lock anyone out. She was a danger to herself.
First, I drew the curtains wide, ignoring her groans from her bed. She was buried so deep in the covers, all I could see were a few tendrils of hair poking out.
Next, I went to the bathroom, wet a sponge with cold water, and returned to her bedside.
“Rise and shine, heathen. You and me have an appointment today. First of many.”
She moved slightly, sticking a hand out of the covers and giving me the finger.
With a chuckle, I tugged the top half of her covers off, down just enough to expose her face. Then I wiped it with the freezing sponge.
“Hey!” She sat up abruptly and shook my hand off. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Waking you, to help you keep to a schedule. You’re welcome.”
“What schedule? It’s Monday. I don’t have class until after lunch.”
“Yes, your painfully light academic schedule isn’t within my control, sadly, but the rest of your life is, so get up.”
She rubbed her eyes and focused on me. “Did you bang your head this morning? You’re the Five a.m. Club enthusiast. Not me. I like sleep. It’s my hobby. The best part of my day.”
“Take a nap if you need one later.”
“Brody!” Her eyes were finally clear, and she glared at me.
“Selena.” I stood over her with folded arms, channeling my best Coach Williams impression.
“What are you doing?”
“Going running,” I told her, apparently taking her by surprise, as she had no response to that. “And you’re coming with me.”
She scoffed. “I am not.”
“Yes, you are… Every day that you do, I’ll give you an item of your clothes back.”
She opened her mouth to protest but then shut it again. She considered me and then finally, she spoke.
“Two things.”
I grinned at her. “Deal.”
Fifteen minutes later, we stood on the street outside the gates of the property. Selena was wearing my oversized hoodie, a T-shirt of mine, and borrowed sweats. She had her arms folded over her chest and an expression like she was picturing my brutal murder.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she complained.
I turned in a direction and started to jog.
“Come on! I can’t hear you!” I jogged on but slowed my pace so she could catch up.
Then, she was there, running beside me.
She grimaced as though in pain. “This fucking sucks,” she muttered.
“Keep up and stop complaining.”
“You keep up—and stop talking.”
“You first, little heathen.”
She rolled her eyes at me but had to drop the dramatics when we took a hill. The neighborhood was the best in Hade Harbor, and the weather was pleasant, if cool and dim.
It had been a while since I’d run outside, instead of on a treadmill while listening to the financial news. There was something downright wholesome about running while birds sang around you.
I glanced over to see how Selena was enjoying the exercise.
She was red, her forehead sweaty. She looked a second away from giving up.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just thought you were fitter than this,” I teased. “I heard you used to be a cheerleader. I guess it’s just all about being hot and nothing to do with athletics at all,” I mocked, knowing it would distract her and get a reaction.
She snorted. “You couldn’t do half the moves cheerleaders can. You’d probably pop your ball sack just trying.”
I laughed at that, the sound escaping me without thought. Fuck, this girl was funny when she wanted to be.
“That sounds like a challenge,” I put to her.
She glanced at me, then faced forward and suddenly accelerated. She raced away from me, far more in the tank than she’d been pretending to have.
I let her get a good distance before closing it easily. She was really red now, breathing hard. She had hit her stride, however, and had stopped complaining.
I fell into step beside her. We ran side by side in the early morning light.
She was fit. She could run. It was clear she’d been an athlete before by the way she moved.
We made a big loop before heading back toward the house.
On the last leg, Selena threw me a grin as the gates of the house appeared at the end of the road.
Her grin was something else. Something beautiful. I nearly put my feet wrong, I was so busy staring at her.
She darted in front of me while I was distracted.
“Oh, no you don’t.” I jogged up beside her.
The house loomed closer now. She ran full out, her long legs eating up the distance, keeping pace with me, despite my superior height.
We raced toward the gates, and she reached out a hand to touch them.
I could have overtaken her. I could have touched the gates first.
But I didn’t.
Sometimes, people just needed a win.
She slammed through the gates that we’d left slightly open and raced onto the lawn in front of the house.
“Who’s unfit now, Sinclair?” she demanded, hands on hips, smiling up at me triumphantly. She’d scraped her hair back from her face into a swinging ponytail. Her cheeks were pink and flushed and her eyes were alive. Dancing, even.
“Well?” she prompted.
“Okay, you’ve got me, cheer captain. You’ve won,” I told her. “This time, at least.”
“This time?” she repeated.
“This time. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time.”
A frown creased her forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Two items of clothing per run, I told you. You agreed.”
“I didn’t know you meant every day,” she protested.
“Don’t you want your clothes back? You’re giving me mixed signals here,” I said and then laughed when she hit me in the chest.
“You’re so annoying.”
“So I’ve been told.” I sank down onto the grass, not caring if it was wet with morning dew. I was so hot, and the coolness felt good.
To my surprise, Selena sat next to me, leaning back and staring at the brightening sky.
“I haven’t gone running in… forever. I haven’t done any exercise at all in—too long. I forgot how it feels.”
“There’s nothing better for getting you out of your own head.”
“About the prescription bottle—”
“How do you know I was the one who gave you dinner last night?”
“How do you know that’s where the pill bottle was?” she challenged back.
I shrugged. “Touché. Go on.”
“I’ve been taking them from another bottle in my backpack. I mean, it wasn’t because I wasn’t taking the pills. I didn’t stop.”
Her words alleviated a certain amount of guilt I’d been carrying.
“Right. People shouldn’t go on and off those things lightly.” I didn’t look at Selena. I could feel her awkwardness as we skirted near the subject that both of us were avoiding on purpose.
“I don’t want to talk,” she said after a moment. “Especially not to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you either. This is about the Sinclair family reputation. I can’t have you going off the rails, people finding out. I need you to be mentally sound… so I can crush your spirit, without hesitation.”
“Well, good then.”
“Good.”