Chapter 23
At six o’clock onMonday morning, her alarm went off. She struck a hand out blindly and turned it off, cracked one eye open, and groaned. The sheer curtain in her bedroom revealed a gray, dark sky that looked ready to open up and pour at any minute.
She made up her mind. She wasn’t running today.
Theo would be mad about it, but she wasn’t feeling any sort of generosity for the man at the moment. His abrupt goodbye at the pub had left her feeling emotions she made it a habit never to feel.
She was so disappointed she had spent the rest of the night flirting with all the usual crew. It was a superficial attempt to not feel the emptiness that grew in her as she watched Theo walk out. That kind of high never lasted, but it was something when she felt abruptly like she had nothing.
Not even the ability to sleep in anymore.
She punched the pillow and got up. Theo had ruined her. Her body was so used to waking up early, she couldn’t go back to sleep. Even her usual breakfasts of muffins and coffee made her stomach hurt now. She’d never admit it, but she craved green juice and eggs.
What had he done to her?
And why hadn’t he stayed last night?
The answers to either of those questions was more than she wanted to think about before the sun was up.
But she was done running. She didn”t care what other events he went to for the rest of the summer. It wasn’t even in her job description to schedule them, and aside from a nice little bonus if he won reelection, it was no skin off her back if he never went to another community event.
Theo was a sadist and she wasn’t going to let him boss her around anymore.
Or hurt her by leaving.
She was the one who left.
Which is why, when he knocked on the door promptly at six-thirty, she was ready to pounce.
She swung it open even as his hand was still in the air. “I’m not running today,” she said, lifting her chin. ”It”s raining, and I”m tired, and I want a break,” she said belligerently.
Theo looked her over, assessing her for injuries, she supposed. Out of habit, she had put on her hot pink bike shorts and a black sports bar. ”I”ll do yoga instead,” she said grudgingly. It was a good compromise because she did actually like the way she felt after exercising, though she wasn’t going to give him another point on his side of the scoreboard. ”I”ll see you at work.” She turned around and shut the door, but Theo”s hand shot out and grabbed it.
”You”re running,” he said grimly. ”Get your sneakers.”
”I”m not running. I quit.” She crossed her arms and glared.
He stared at her, the disappointment written all over his face doing something awful to her insides. “The race is in two weeks.”
He took a step toward her.
She backed up. ”I”m not running.”
“Oh, yes, you are,” he said. Theo swooped down, grabbed her sneakers next to the door, and picked up her foot in one swift move. She wobbled on one foot and complained bitterly while he wrestled her sneakers on.
“I told you I can”t do this. I”m tired, my legs hurt, and I can”t do it,” her voice rose toward the end. She felt tender this morning and closer to tears than she had been in years. It made her want to start a fight. “You”re always pushing. All you do is push, push, push, and I’m tired of it.”
”Come on, Red Hot. The faster we get it done, the faster it”ll be over.”
He was merciless, prodding her down the stairs with a large hand clamped on her back.
Theo stopped at the stairs outside. “Stretch,” he said curtly. “We”ll take it easy today.”
”You never take it easy.” She put her foot on a stair and leaned forward, muttering to herself.
“Other leg.” Theo was doing his own stretching, implacable as ever. The coil within her twisted.
“Did you eat?”
“I had a banana,” she snarled. “Do you want to know why I’m so tired? Huh?”
“Run,” he said, ignoring her. He set a slow, easy pace. That pissed her off too. Of course he would humor her. She knew that was illogical, but she was spoiling for a fight now.
“I was up late...last night...using my...electronic boyfriend...and he ran out of batteries.” She huffed along, pissed that her delivery was punctuated with her panting. Honestly, did running ever get any easier? She’d been at it for weeks and it was still so damn hard. She wanted to quit at least every other day.
Theo’s scowl deepened, and he picked up the pace. Purposefully, she was certain. She was quiet for the first mile, mostly because she couldn’t physically speak and run at that pace, but then her mind started to get in the way of her body. Her calves hurt; her thighs hurt. She hadn”t eaten a proper breakfast like Theo was always harping on.
The skies opened up in a deluge, pounding her face and her eyes, and her sneakers were a soggy mess. Her bike shorts and sports bra were soaked through, outlining her body, and all the while she seethed.
Theo”s silence grated at her. He never argued. He was always cool and rational. Just once, she wanted to see him be a mere mortal and lose his temper.
They were running past the village green, almost to the gazebo that looked out onto the canal, when she’d had enough. She stopped abruptly, panting. ”I”m not going any farther.” Rain dripped down her face and into her mouth.
Theo stopped and turned around. He wasn”t even breathing hard, the jerk. “We’re more than halfway there.”
“I’m done. I hate running.” She swiped away the heavy, wet hair that had escaped her ponytail and was plastered in her face. “And I hate you!” The delivery was ruined with the panting, but she glared at him, anyway.
Theo’s jaw clenched. His T-shirt plastered to his body, each of the blocks of muscle in his chest and stomach outlined clearly. For once, his neat hair was a mess, dripping down onto his face like hers. She was so angry she wanted to cry. But she never did that. Fight it was.
“Fuck, Amber.” Theo thrust his fingers through his wet hair and held them there on top of his head, pulling as if he wished it were her neck. “You push everyone around you—why won’t you push yourself?”
“What?” she took a step back as if he had thrown a punch. “What are you talking about?”
“You say that I push you? You’re the one who pushes.” He stepped toward her, and she backed up again, feeling the gazebo at her back. “You push Val to go to college, and you pushed Charlotte out of her shell. You push my buttons every fucking day with that smart mouth of yours. Push yourself, Amber. For once in your life, just fucking do the work.”
“I am doing the work!” she screamed, past all rationality. “I’ve worked harder in the last month than I have in my entire life, and you”re telling me to push more? I don”t have it in me. It”s not there.” She was panting and aware that the rain might”ve turned to tears on her face.
Suddenly, he gripped her shoulders hard, and crowded her back into the gazebo. His face was fierce as he glared at her. ”Stop fucking doubting yourself and just do the goddamn thing,” he shouted. He was so close she could see the little droplets of water on his eyelashes and dripping off his nose. His hands gripped her bare shoulders, hot where the rain had made her cold.
“I can’t,” she screamed in his stupid, horrible, beautiful face.
His grip tightened, pulling her up on her toes and into his body.
He kissed her.
For a moment, she was so shocked, she froze. The stroke of his tongue forced her out of her stupor. She wrapped her arms around him, tangled her fingers in his thick, dark hair hard enough that he grunted, and jerked him closer. It was a battle of lips and tongues and sharp teeth. Dimly, she was aware of the bite of the wood gazebo against her back and the contrast of cold rain and hot, hard man where his body pressed against hers. She clawed at him to get closer, devouring him, because it was never enough. His beautiful hair was slick and wet in her fingers. She held on tighter.
Theo’s mouth slanted over hers, fitting their lips together. His tongue slid against hers, demanding and rough. She sucked it, thrilled to take a piece of him inside her. A furious burst of desire melted her insides, and she was suddenly trying to crawl up his body, just as fiercely demanding as he was.
More so.
He pulled her up tighter until her weight rested between him and the gazebo. They panted in between hot, wet, sucking kisses. His hands gripped her ass, holding her tighter, sliding down to her knee and bringing it around his waist, making her feel the long, thick burn of his cock through the thin material of her shorts. Her breathing stuttered and stopped, starting again with a gasp when one strong arm moved to her lower back and molded her even tighter to his hard body. He ground into her where she needed him the most. “You.. .make.. .me so...fucking...crazy.”
“Shut up . . .” she panted, rubbing herself on him. “Shut up . . .” nipping and biting his lips, “. . . and kiss me.”
Gradually, his kiss changed. His hands cupped her face, his fingers threading through the back of her hair to hold her still while he kissed her softer still until she sagged against his hard chest. Only then did he let her mouth go reluctantly. He dropped his forehead against hers with a heavy groan. She couldn’t seem to move her arms from around his neck. They stood there for a moment, each breathing heavily until he gave her knee one last squeeze and let it slide down his body.
She dropped her forehead against his chest.
“For a vanilla guy, you know how to use your mouth,” she said.
“You have no idea what I can do with my mouth,” he said tiredly, giving her one more quick, burning hot press of it against hers. She shuddered.
She looked around in a daze. It was still raining, but more of a sprinkle than a downpour, and the sun peeked out from behind the darker clouds. Soon the heat of the day would quickly dry the rain and people would be walking their dogs and running along the canal. Across from her, nailed into the telephone pole, Davis Beckerman’s poster stared at her with a fake, smarmy white smile.
She pushed against his chest. “Back up before someone sees us.”
He lifted an eyebrow, but he gave her space. “Would that be a problem for you?”
“For me? No. For you? Yes. Huge problem. The last thing you need is to be seen kissing your employee in the rain.” She tried wringing out her sports bra, but it was no use. She’d have to walk back home waterlogged.
He gave her a look but didn’t press her, and she was glad.
“Let’s pick up the pace on the way back to make up for that last shitty mile,” he said.
What?
Her lip trembled, and she looked up at him, searching his cool blue eyes. ”When are you going to give me a break?”
”When you start believing in yourself,” he said simply. He turned around and started running.
She took a few steps. Realized it would take her longer to get to where she wanted to go, steeled herself, and started to run at her own pace.