Page 8 of Meet Me in a Mile

Eight

Luke

L uke woke up alone, the aftertaste of nachos on his breath and Lydia’s lip gloss on his tongue. Just this one time , she had said. Get it out of our systems.

He rolled over, into the space she’d occupied on the bed, inhaling the scent of her on the pillow—soapy white florals with citrus. Waking up alone was nothing unusual for him, so he was surprised at the sudden pang in his chest. At how obviously in his system she still was. He opened his eyes, blinking down at the hardwood floor. It was then that he noticed Lydia’s socks. If she’d taken the time to put on the rest of her clothes, why would she have left her socks? He sat up, listening for her in the apartment, but it was silent. Luke climbed out of bed and shrugged into jogging pants and a T-shirt to go investigate.

The living room was empty, but the scent of coffee lingered in the kitchen. He was a simple guy and used instant, which he suspected was not up to Lydia’s fancy, overpriced sugary caffeine tastes. She’d left him a mug on the counter and coffee in the pot. It was still warm. He smiled to himself at the sweet simplicity of the gesture. When he’d poured his coffee, he sought her out in the last place she could be—the fire escape.

He popped the window open, leaning out to see her better. She was curled up in the chair he kept out there, her bare feet kicked up on the railing, a pad of paper in her lap—one of the endless memo pads he ended up bringing home from the gym. Her hair was still loose, amber under the morning sun, sparkling with shades of gold. He itched to twist it around his fingers again, to feel the strands pull taut as he tilted her head, exposing the delicate column of her neck to his lips, but he quickly willed those thoughts away and cleared his throat. “Morning.”

She turned and beamed at him, catching him off guard. He’d expected awkwardness or even a level of embarrassment once the sleep fog faded and she remembered what they’d gotten up to last night. But like most days, Lydia totally surprised him.

“How’s the coffee?” he asked.

“Terrible. Is this how you chase girls out in the morning?”

“Yes. One of the many tactics I employ.”

Lydia hummed, taking an exaggerated sip from her mug.

Luke climbed out the window to join her. The morning was oddly cool but not cold, the early-July sun quickly chasing away any lingering chill from overnight. He sat against the railings, his back to the street, just so he could look at her. This was the last of their night together, and he wanted to drink her in, soft and unguarded and smiling. “I thought you might have done a runner.”

Her gaze flickered up from her page, finding his, and for a split second Luke thought he’d made it uncomfortable, but then Lydia laughed. “An unscheduled morning run? As if.”

Luke snorted, knowing just how serious she was. “What are you drawing?”

She passed over the memo pad. “I thought it was pretty, the way the sun hit the buildings this morning.”

“This is amazing,” he murmured, putting his coffee down so he could trace the lines of her sketch with his fingertip. It was a stunningly accurate rendition of the buildings across the street. She’d captured the hard lines of the apartments and the shadowy fire escapes and the intricate design of the bodega on the ground floor. She was talented, there was no doubt about that. Probably a superstar in that office of hers. But then he remembered what she’d said last night at the pub— I feel like I’m in a rut. Like people don’t actually take me or my ideas seriously. How could anyone look at this and not take her seriously? He’d hire her in a heartbeat to design his gym from the ground up if he had the money.

Lydia shrugged, unimpressed by her own talent. “It’s just a sketch.”

“This is good enough to hang on my wall and use as a conversation piece with friends,” he said. He didn’t know how anyone so talented could even begin to doubt themselves.

“If you like it so much, you can keep it.”

Luke passed the memo pad back to her. “You have to sign it.”

Lydia indulged him, scrawling her name across the bottom of the paper. She tore it free of the memo pad and handed it to him. “You all right?” she asked.

“Just thinking.”

“A dangerous pastime.” She tried for a smile but when he didn’t return it, a line appeared between her brows. “Are these dark, haunting thoughts or just the regular kind?”

“Maybe a bit of both.”

“Well, now I’m hooked.” She sat back in her chair, reaching out to nudge his knee with her foot. “Go on. Can’t be any worse than us seeing each other naked.”

He huffed, taking a sip of coffee. He could think of plenty of things worse than seeing Lydia naked. The image of her, touched by nothing but the streetlights, wasn’t one he’d soon forget, or the fact that he’d held her soft curves in his hands, touched parts of her that had made her toes curl. And maybe that was part of the problem. Actually, that was definitely the problem. “I was just thinking about what happened last night, and how that probably wasn’t my smartest idea.”

“You mean sleeping with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but there were two people involved in the decision-making required to get us to the morning after.”

“You’re right,” he said. “But I am sor—”

“Don’t apologize. We didn’t do anything wrong.” Luke frowned at that, and she continued with, “Did you have fun? Did I satisfy you to the fullest extent?”

Luke fought a horrendous blush. “I think you know the answer to that.”

“Then we can chalk it up to a good time.”

“It was still unprofessional of me, and for that I do want to apologize. I usually never cross workplace boundaries.” If Luke was being truthful with himself, he’d made excuses last night. He knew he’d risked their professional partnership. But part of him also felt more clearheaded about the decision this morning. Maybe it was the fresh air, maybe it was the coffee, but he knew what this was, and it sounded like she did as well. But just in case, he added, “So that can’t happen again. Ever.”

“Don’t worry. I still plan on running this race,” she said.

“And I want to help get you there,” Luke assured her. “I’m not trying to shirk my responsibility as your trainer, but if you’d prefer to start fresh with someone else, I’d understand. I could recommend another trainer from the gym—”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Lydia said with certainty. Some ridiculous part of him roared in triumph at her declaration. “I like the partnership we have going. I like the way you’ve set up my training plan. I watched you with the kids yesterday, and it’s no wonder they all wanted to talk to you. You’re a great motivator, and I need someone like that in my corner. I don’t want to start all over again with someone new.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stop complaining every time I ask you to do a burpee?”

“Not a chance.”

Luke laughed into his mug. If Lydia was prepared to make this work, then he could too. They were both adults who’d made the adult decision to sleep together. They’d chalk it up to a night where their desires got the best of them and leave it at that. Besides, didn’t Lydia have a workplace crush she was trying to impress?

That idea cooled whatever remained of last night’s lingering thoughts.

“Professional?” Lydia said, thrusting out her hand for him to shake.

Luke took it. “Professional.”

“Glad we’re on the same page about it.” She let go of his hand and thrusted her coffee cup into the air. “To getting me across that finish line.”

“Starting with today’s eight-mile run,” Luke added, snickering as she scowled at him.

“I was hoping you forgot about that.”

“The sex wasn’t that mind-blowing.”

“Hey!” Lydia said as he stood and walked back to the window.

He beckoned her with a flick of his head. See, he could do this. He could just be Trainer Luke.

“Eight miles sucks,” Lydia complained for the fifth—or was it fiftieth?—time since starting the run.

“What are you talking about? You’re already halfway there, and you’re averaging an eleven-minute mile. At this rate we’ll be done in another forty minutes.”

Lydia groaned. “We’ve been running forever.”

“That’s just the way it goes in the beginning. Some runs breeze by and some drag on. One day, weeks from now, you’ll look back and think about how easy eight miles is.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious. By the end of this training plan, you’ll be running eight miles as your nice, short recovery run distance and it won’t even faze you.”

“I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”

“C’mon—” Where’s all that energy I saw last night? Luke caught the words on the tip of his tongue. They’d agreed to this line. He couldn’t cross it. Not again. No aimless flirting, and that included bringing up the night they’d spent together. It was both easier and harder than he’d imagined. Easier because he knew this was the right thing to do. Because he was so determined to help her complete this marathon. But it was harder, too. Harder to keep his thoughts in check, especially during a long run when his mind naturally started to wander. He wondered if Lydia was having the same problem, but judging by her clenched fists and the way her brow furrowed, he suspected she was entirely consumed with thoughts of finishing these last four miles.

“You’re tensing up,” Luke said, slowing the pace. Her shoulders had been creeping toward her ears for at least a mile. Lydia staggered to a walk beside him.

Lydia rolled her shoulders and unfurled her fists as she caught her breath. “I didn’t even realize.”

“Are you in pain?” he asked. They had a lot of miles left to go before the marathon, and the last thing they needed was an injury slowing down their progress.

“No.” She gave him a wan smile. “Believe it or not, I was actually trying to up my pace a bit.”

“Staying relaxed is actually the key if you want to be faster. Tension compromises your running form and naturally slows you down.”

“So you’re saying slow and steady really does win the race?” she teased.

He squinted against the sun. “Sort of. Most runners carry tension in their upper bodies first. Watch for it in your shoulders, your hands, even your jaw.”

“How do I get rid of it?”

“Doing periodic body checks works,” he said. “Mentally scroll through your form cues from top down. Is your jaw clenched? Unclench it. Have your fists curled up? Shake them out. Are your shoulders relaxed?”

“What if I do all that and it doesn’t work?” she asked without looking at him.

“Distraction helps too.”

She hummed softly.

“When you feel that tension creeping in, focus on your breath and your stride.”

“Right,” she said.

Luke could think of other forms of distraction that relieved tension. Things he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about, because this partnership was strictly professional between them now. But as he studied Lydia’s profile, the way she suddenly wouldn’t meet his eye, the way her shoulders were creeping up again, he started to wonder if maybe she was also thinking about some alternative forms of distraction. “If you’re feeling okay, I think we should start running again,” he said, glancing down at his watch like he wasn’t thinking about last night at all.

“Yep,” Lydia said, setting off. “Totally relaxed.”

But as she ran past him, her body coiled like a snake about to strike, Luke knew it was going to be a long four miles...for them both.