Page 45

The thing Leah was looking forward to the most today was the meal after the race. And she fucking deserved every bite of her breakfast and lunch. I think I fell even harder for her when I saw how much food she could fit in her tiny body.

It was seriously impressive. And despite all of us being tired and sweaty, we were riding that runner’s high so much that none of us cared. Not even me. I forgot how different the high is with a group of people versus as a solo runner.

That was the last time I’ve seen Leah today. When we got back to the hotel, everyone went their separate ways to clean up and rest before meeting for a late dinner. Now, we’re sitting in this eclectic restaurant Leah chose, and she’s not even here.

Paige said she was exhausted and decided to stay in and rest. She assured me Leah had all the ice packs she needed and was absolutely wiped and needed some alone time.

Even though I understand, it doesn’t stop me from worrying about her all day. I even go so far as to text her.

Leah Harrison

you okay?

It goes unanswered. Right as I’m about to order a to-go box to take some food to her, Paige says Leah texted her a picture of her room service. I’m glad to know she’s at least alive. But I bristle.

She didn’t answer my text.

do you need anything?

send signs of life

*middle finger emoji*

Even though her text makes me chuckle, something feels off. It’s not like her to ditch Paige, let alone stray from the sacred itinerary. Is she avoiding me?

are you upset with me?

It’s possible she’s up in her room cursing me out for suggesting we do this race in the first place. But how can she feel anything but accomplished right now? I saw her face when she finished—she was emotional but happy .

The smile on her face was brighter than the desert sun. Paige swarmed her, but I got a hug at the end too. Well, it was a group hug, but still, my arms were around her. Where they were meant to be.

And I know her well enough to know that completing the race was overwhelming, in a life changing kind of way.

She doesn’t text me back at all during dinner, and I’ve about had it. Like a fucking child throwing a temper tantrum, I stomp up to her room and bang on the door. Nothing more than faint, muffled sounds tell me she’s inside until I hear a muttered, “what the fuck,” before she wrenches open the door.

I’m stunned for a moment. Her hair is tousled—messy as though she recently had sex. Oh fuck. I hope she didn’t have sex. What if she was feeling so high after the run that she took someone to bed?

First, none of my business. Second, that would be completely out of character for her. She wouldn’t do that. She’s in comfy looking pajamas, soft cotton pants and a loose T-shirt. I have to bite back my moan as her nipples pebble through the fabric at my perusal.

“Do you need something?” She sounds irritated. I guess I’ve been standing here staring. She’s just so beautiful. Her face is all freckled and sun-kissed, her nose a little red. She looks clean enough to lick.

“Can I come in?” My voice is husky and I see her stifle a shiver.

She narrows her eyes but then steps aside. The door shuts with a loud click behind me, sealing us in.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, resuming my assessment.

“Weird.”

Not the answer I was expecting. “How so? ”

“I feel so drained—more exhausted than I ever have. Kinda like I spent the whole day at the beach in the sun, but also my muscles are hot and achy.”

I’m hot and achy. But for a whole different reason.

“That’s pretty normal, especially after a race in the heat.”

“You don’t look exhausted,” she accuses.

But I am. I’m exhausted from staying away from her. Especially right now when she takes me in. Vulnerable and assessing. She’s wary but hasn’t told me to leave. I’m done waiting.

“Do you want a massage?” I ask, deflecting her question.

“Paige came in and gave me one,” she says. Is that regret in her voice?

I nod, unsure what to do next. Every part of me aches to reach out to her. But she stands too far away, keeping her distance. She doesn’t give me any sign that she wants me to come closer, so I take a step back towards the door, already feeling the sting of disappointment and embarrassment.

“A-Alright, I’ll leave you to rest.” Without waiting for her response I turn, my hand on the handle.

“Julien—”

Her soft voice makes me pause. I don’t turn around, worried that if I do, I won’t be able to hold back.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“For w-what?” The words stick in my throat.

“I couldn’t have done this without you today.”

That makes me turn around. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had to. ”

“Is that what you think? That I’m mad at you for this?” Her arms fly out to the sides, gesturing at the whole situation, but I know she means the race.

“Aren’t you?”

“If you’d asked me that at mile twelve, I would’ve said yes.” A small smile plays on her lips. My mind goes back to when she hit the wall. I’ve felt that before—in races, on the ice. That moment where you don’t think you can’t keep going.

“And now?” I raise a brow. She takes a step closer and I don’t dare to breathe.

I watch the column of her throat as she swallows. She’s a walking dream, in real life, standing in front of me.

My fingers pulse with the need to touch her. She takes another step forward.

“Now? I have to admit I was wrong.” She makes a face like she bit into a sour lemon.

The tension in my body breaks and I bark out a laugh. “Oh yeah?”

“Thank you for proving me wrong.”

She’s so close to me now. I don’t dare move a muscle, not even a twitch, as her hand comes to rest over my heart. She stretches up on her tiptoes, and we don’t break eye contact as she brings herself closer, planting the softest kiss to my lips. So soft it’s barely there.

But I feel it everywhere, right to the deepest parts of my heart. She lowers herself but doesn’t back away.

“Leah—” I whisper.

“Julien. ”

I only ever want my name coming out of her mouth. Tracing the side of her face with the back of my hand, I search her eyes. The heat and desire and care I feel for her are mirrored back to me.

“Ask me.” I keep my voice low, afraid to ruin this moment. And if I’m being honest with myself—a rare occurrence—I’m also afraid of her answer.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me to stay.”

She looks at me intently, and the glint in her eyes steals the breath from my lungs. Leaning into me, pulled in by some magnetic force, she arches as my hand settles on the low dip of her back. She hasn’t said it yet, and I don’t want to misinterpret her meaning.

This could be a goodbye to ... whatever this is. Or the race adrenaline.

Ten pounding heartbeats. That’s how long she makes me wait.

“Stay.”

I snap, slamming my mouth to hers and pulling her up so she can wrap her legs around my waist, much like the first time we kissed in her apartment. I turn her to pin her against the wall, devouring her. There’s no way I’m letting her out of my arms this time, not unless she pushes me away.

She doesn’t.

She pulls me in like she’s starving for me as much as I am for her. After months of foreplay, all I want to do is sink into her. But patience—I have to have more patience. I know my size.

My body hums with anticipation. It won’t be a chore to wring out her pleasure so I’ll be able to fit.

We kiss until we can’t breathe and even then, I’d rather suffocate than separate from her. She’s my air, the only air I need. Unfortunately, my lungs protest, not happy with metaphorical air, and we wrench away, gulping down breaths.

I don’t keep my mouth unoccupied for long, trailing kisses down her soft neck. She tastes like rain and smells like my dreams.

I nip and suck at the soft flesh, earning me moans as she tightens her legs.

“Do you like that?” I whisper into her ear before I scrape my teeth on her lobe, giving it a little tug.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“I want to see you.” I need to see her. She stiffens as my hands come to the hem of her shirt, making me freeze.

“What’s wrong?” Our breathing is heavy.

She can’t meet my eyes, so I bring my hand to hold her chin, insisting with a look that she talk to me. She swallows, a flush running up her neck.

“I ... I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

There’s more to it than that, so I wait silently. A flash of annoyance replaces her look of vulnerability. Good.

“I haven’t been with anyone except Ian,” she lets out in a rush.

I don’t want her saying another man’s name when her legs are around me, but I tamp down the urge to growl, to tear his name from her tongue and kiss her until it’s only mine she remembers.

Instead, I ask slowly, drawing out the syllables, “Okay?”

She huffs. But the vulnerability is back.

“He was my first but I wasn’t his, and he made a few comments. ”

I’m going to kick this motherfucker’s ass.

“What kind of comments?” Can she hear the anger? Can she tell I’m ready to drive straight to the airport and fly back to Vancouver to beat the shit out of him?

“Sex, it’s ... it’s not something I’m good at.”

I see red. For a few seconds, I’m frozen with rage. But her eyes can’t stay fixed on my face, and her vulnerability keeps me there with her. She’s more important. I can deal with her ex later.

“Leah, I have never wanted anyone the way I want you. And I can tell you right now”—I press myself against her, letting her feel how much I need her—“there’s no fucking way this will be anything less than perfect.”

“I have scars,” she blurts out as if it’s a defect. A strike against her. I’m about to speak, but she keeps going. “I’m probably not like the women you’re used to. I’m not tall or skinny. I’m an average woman.” Again, she says it like it’s a defect.

I make sure she’s looking right into my eyes before I speak.

“You are beautiful,” I say, kissing her softly. “And strong.” Another kiss. “And so fucking selfless it borderlines on pathological.” Another kiss, and this time I feel her lips curl.

“Your scars show how much you’ve survived.” I sweep my tongue into her mouth, leaving both of us breathless.

“It’s not just from my accident though, I have stretch marks and—”

I kiss her again, sliding my hands up her shirt, pulling her against me. She keeps her legs wrapped around me while I carry her to the bed, not breaking the kiss. I dump her on the mattress abruptly and she bounces a little, a laugh bubbling up from her lips.

She’s the most intoxicating woman I’ve ever met.

The bed dips as I lean over her, bracing my hands on either side of her head.

“Let me show you,” I insist. The laughter stops as she takes me in.

“Show me what?” she breathes.

“How beautiful you are to me.”