Page 27 of Now That It’s You (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #5)

“ T ell me again why we’re doing this?” Kendall asked as she huffed along beside Meg on Wednesday afternoon, her neon-pink running shorts hitching up on one leg as Kendall reached down to scratch a bug bite.

Meg wiped her brow and kept going, wishing her stride was half as long and elegant as her best friend’s. She pressed on anyway. “I just feel like I need to get in better shape,” she said. “I’ve been feeling a little squishy lately.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with bumping uglies with Kyle on Saturday night, would it?”

Meg felt the heat creep into her cheeks, but she chalked it up to the exertion of the run. “Not at all.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. Maybe a little. You try having a man hoist you up and grope you against a wall and not feel?—”

“Hell, yes! Where do I sign up for that?”

“My point is that having a guy try to lift me up off the ground is a good wakeup call that I could stand to lose a pound or two.”

“Please,” Kendall scoffed. “It doesn’t sound like he was exactly repulsed by your figure. Men like a little squish.”

“They like squish in some places. Not all places.”

“So you’re doing this for Kyle?”

“No way,” Meg panted. “I’m doing this for me. I’m not seeing Kyle again. Not like that, anyway.”

“Liar!”

Kendall’s declaration was louder this time, but Meg just shook her head.

“Nope. Come on, Kendall. I told you it was a stupid idea for me to sleep with him. His family’s spent the last two years hating me, and now they’re suing me.

Can you think of a worse person for me to be fraternizing with right now? ”

“Fraternizing, huh? Is that what the kids call it these days?”

“Can we talk about something else?” Or nothing at all. Meg was feeling short of breath, and they hadn’t even gone a mile yet.

“Fine.” Kendall turned off on a narrow path leading toward the river, and Meg’s mind flashed to the last time she’d been here, running through the woods with an imaginary dragon and Kyle with a bag of marshmallows. Had only three weeks passed since then? It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Did I tell you I’m having drinks with my literary agent tomorrow?”

Kendall laughed. “You don’t know how much I love hearing you say ‘my literary agent.’”

“You don’t know how many times I had to practice saying it before it rolled off my tongue.”

“So is she going to tell you how much money you’ve made?”

That was one new development in the situation. When it quickly became clear that Meg’s little self-published cookbook was selling faster than than the print-on-demand service could keep up with, her agent had locked down a contract with a traditional publisher.

It was a win for their ability to keep up with sales, but a loss for Meg’s ability to track sales.

“My agent keeps saying we won’t have hard numbers for a while,” she panted, wiping a sweaty curl off her forehead. “You don’t start seeing checks roll in right away, not even for a bestselling book. Hell, maybe I won’t make much money at all.”

“Please. You’ve been in the number-one slot on The New York Times Bestsellers list for two weeks. Pretty sure that’ll earn you more than a cup of coffee and a donut.”

Meg frowned. That’s precisely what Matt’s parents were assuming, too. She knew her attorney had been talking with their attorney, and the thought that she had an attorney at all was as mind-boggling as the idea of having a literary agent. So far, she’d avoided talking further with Kyle about it.

Hell, she’d avoided talking to Kyle at all. It had been four days since they’d slept together, and though he’d phoned several times, Meg kept dodging the calls. She didn’t know how she felt about the unexpected shift in their relationship, and she wasn’t ready to talk until she’d sorted it all out.

“Everything’s just moving so fast,” Meg said, not sure if she was talking about the cookbook or what happened with Kyle.

“You know what’s not moving fast?”

“Hm?”

“Us.” Kendall reached over and patted her butt. “Come on, let’s kick it up a notch.”

Meg groaned. Why hadn’t she remembered how much she hated running?

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, with sweat pooling between her boobs and her lungs feeling like someone had taken a blowtorch to them, she was reconsidering.

How many calories did yoga burn? Or maybe gardening. Anything without so much jostling.

She reached into her sports bra to adjust the girls, nudging her iPhone out of the way and saying a silent prayer her waterproof phone case was sweatproof, too.

She should have left the damn phone at home.

But her agent had ordered her to stay available.

Apparently her lawyer was brainstorming new ideas to defend Meg’s cookbook royalties, and they needed to be able to reach her at all times.

Meg jammed the phone deeper into her bra and thought about investing in one of those cool armband phone holders. Maybe if she had something like that, or a dog to go running with every day?—

“So anyway,” Kendall said. “I was thinking about changing my?—”

“Starting FaceTime with Kyle Midland.”

The voice echoed from the depths of Meg’s cleavage and it took her a moment to realize what was happening.

“What?!” Her shriek ricocheted through the park as she skidded to a stop on the trail. Meg stuck a hand in her bra, fumbling to retrieve the sweat-slick iPhone. She felt it vibrate, then heard the distinct buzz of a video-call going through.

“Holy shit, end call!” Meg panted. “Stop FaceTime! Abort!” Meg yanked the phone out of her bra and stabbed at the screen with sweaty fingers. Her thumb skidded off the plastic screen protector, having zero impact on any of the controls. Panicked, she shoved the phone at Kendall.

“Do something!”

“What am I supposed to do?”

Kendall grabbed the phone and looked around, then down at her own clothing. Her shirt was drenched with sweat, but her shorts looked dry. Before Meg could stop her, Kendall was wiping the phone on her rear end.

“Hello?” Kyle’s voice echoed off Kendall’s butt. “Meg? Is that you?”

Kendall drew the phone back and held it up so Meg could see. Kyle’s face was framed up in the center, looking bemused and a little sleepy. Kendall angled the phone so Meg’s face was in the frame, too, which was a mistake. God, she looked horrible. Red-faced and sweaty and?—

“Meg?” he asked again.

Meg stared open-mouthed, trying to think of what to say. Kendall started to hand her the phone, then stopped and pointed at Meg’s top.

“Fix your boob,” she whispered.

Meg looked down to see her right boob making a valiant attempt to escape from the sports bra. She reached down and adjusted herself, using her arm to shield the view as she shoved everything back into place.

“Kyle,” she said, trying to sound as casual as she could. “Um, good morning. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Looks like you’re exercising?”

“Right.” Meg wiped a hand over her brow, then took the phone from Kendall. “You know me, I live to get fit.”

“Since when?”

“Since—shut up, Kyle.”

He laughed. “Why did Kendall tell you to fix your boob? Is it broken?”

She shot a look at Kendall, who was laughing so hard she had to hold on to a flagpole to keep her balance. “Look, Kyle. Sorry, but I didn’t mean to call you.”

“It was an accident?”

“Exactly.”

“How do you accidentally FaceTime someone?”

Meg blew a sticky curl off her cheek and sighed. “If you must know, my boobs called you.”

He stared at her. “Your boobs,” he repeated. “What did they want to say to me?”

“Nothing. They acted on their own without consulting me.”

“They do that sometimes.”

She hadn’t thought her face could get any redder, but she’d been wrong.

Kyle wasn’t done. “Was that Kendall’s butt on the screen just a second ago?”

“Hi, Kyle!” Kendall crowded in behind Meg and waved at the screen. “Meg’s boobs might’ve called you, but my ass wanted in on the conversation.”

“This is turning out to be the best video call I’ve ever had.”

Kendall laughed and pulled her foot up behind her, stretching her quad. “It’s good to see you,” she said.

“Good to see you, too. You’re looking—sweaty.”

“We’re out for a run. Good for the heart, you know.”

“Absolutely,” Meg agreed, thinking she might not mind dying of a heart attack on the spot. “So listen, Kyle?—”

“I heard you on the radio the other night,” he said. “You sounded great.”

“Thank you,” she said as something inside her softened a little. “NPR did a special on the cookbook.”

A dumb thing to say, since he’d obviously heard it. But if he saw the opportunity to tease her, he didn’t seize it. “Sounds like things are going great with the book.”

She nodded, resisting the urge to bristle. He was just making conversation, not fishing for information to relay to his mother. “That’s true.”

Kyle cleared his throat. “So, Meg. I’d still like to talk. It’s been four days.”

“I know,” she said, closing her eyes. She’d avoided him like a big, fat chicken, and he had every right to call her on it. It’s just that she had no idea what to say now that she’d gone and mucked everything up by sleeping with him.

But standing here with her eyes shut tight and his voice low in her ear, it was impossible not to remember the feather-light kiss he’d skimmed across her cheek when she’d gotten out of the car that night.

Meg swallowed hard and opened her eyes to see Kendall eyeing her curiously. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Running?”

“Running. And dealing with cookbook stuff and catering jobs and?—”

“So how about Friday evening?”

“Friday?”

“Sure. The day after tomorrow. Are you doing anything?”

“Actually, yes. I’m catering a bachelorette party Saturday and I have to prep a buttload of food for it. I’ll probably be at it all night since my assistant called this morning with the flu.”

“So I’ll be your assistant.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Let me assist you. I’m not the world’s greatest chef, but I can chop things.”

Meg nibbled her lip, considering. She could always ask her mom for help, or get it done by herself with a few extra hours of work.