Page 5 of A Million Times, Yes
She gazed at my fingers for a moment before she shook my hand.
As soon as our skin touched, my lungs brought in as much air as they could hold, my chest tightening as I felt it.
The burst.
The feeling started in my palm and went all the way through me.
What made it worse was her grin.
“Oh, Jordan, so do you.”
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 meaneverything.”
“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 runningmaybe 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.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5 (reading here)
- Page 6
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- Page 9
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