Page 4

I slowed to a creep before stopping completely. Listening to him came naturally. He was a leader. He exuded the energy, making me submit to him instinctively. I stared at the bottle he was offering, unsure of its contents.

“It’s water,” he explained, “I haven’t put my mouth to it yet. Have some. Even if it’s just a sip. I’ll take whatever is left.”

He hardly knew the first thing about me.

I was a stranger. Unfamiliar energy. Unfamiliar territory.

Unfamiliar thoughts. Unfamiliar ways. Yet, I’d quickly become his priority.

Seemingly, his responsibility. There was no doubt in my mind that he wouldn’t allow me to pass up the water.

He’d pour it into my mouth himself if he had to.

I knew him. I felt him. I’d spent so many nights with him. He was no stranger to me. He was my husband. He was my boyfriend. He was my friend. He was mine. In every lifetime. And, there was no denying his position in my world, although we’d technically just met.

“And, what if there’s none?” I asked, curious about his commitment.

“Then I will have the bottle in my truck once I return.”

I accepted the water bottle, pleased with his response. My lips parted, inviting the cap into my mouth. I tilted my head while squeezing the bottle, pouring the chilled water down my throat. My overheated frame cooled immediately.

Though I’d been anticipating the burn, the water felt heavenly cruising down my esophagus. I gulped. And gulped. And gulped before lowering the bottle. Almost half was gone. I leaned forward, placing a free hand to my chest as I steadied my breathing.

He didn’t reach for the water. Instead, he watched intently as I gathered my bearings. His beauty was disturbing. Perfection existed. If not before him, then it started the second of his conception.

I couldn’t help myself. I gnawed on my bottom lip to suppress the smile I felt approaching. However, my attempt fell flat when my lips pulled upward. With a shake of my head, I surrendered.

“You alright?” He asked.

I nodded. “Yes. I’m well.”

I extended my arm, ready to return his property. He needed a drink, and we were set to take off in approximately sixty-eight seconds.

“Your water,” I reminded him.

“Have you had enough?”

“I have,” I confessed.

Only then did he take the bottle and pop it right into his mouth. He began chugging, not stopping until the bottle was empty. Amused, astounded, and full of admiration, my eyes trained themselves on the man in front of me.

Did he just–

He did .

The bottle lowered, revealing the curiosity on his handsome face. He looked up at the sky and then back at me.

“Peppermint.”

I rolled the inside of my bottom lip between my teeth. The mini peppermint I’d popped into my mouth during the jog to the location for the run was still evident on my tongue.

“It’s not even seven in the morning–” he paused, “Ms. Mellow. And, you’re already eating candy.”

“Rome–” I sighed. “My name is Rome, and the mints keep my mouth moist during runs.”

I couldn’t believe how awful that sounded. I’d meant every word, and every word was true. However, my heart tightened after releasing them.

He couldn’t resist. He couldn’t resist if he wanted to. Joyous chuckles left his frame. I turned around, sharing the same joy while simultaneously feeling the effects of being the butt end of a joke. He had me by the collar. It was invigorating and pathetic at once.

“Good morning, Rome. I’m Sa–”

Prrrt!

The whistle silenced him. Two minutes had felt like two whole lifetimes. But we were off again within the next second. Him behind me. Me in front of him.

Wondering.

Drowning.

Flying.

Unraveling .

All at once.

Thirty minutes of a steady pace got me to our destination with sweat beads dripping down my forehead, stomach, and back.

The burn was on and it felt as freeing as the run had.

Enthused, I placed my hands on my head and walked in a large circle, attempting to decelerate my heart and allow my body to cool.

My cell vibrated in my pocket. I pulled my hands down, slapping them on my thighs before shoving one into my right pocket.

The AirDrop box appeared on the screen, claiming that SD wanted to send me a photo.

I lifted my head, observing the crowd to see who the initials belonged to.

It wasn’t long before I located the sender.

He was a mere three feet in front of me.

His gaze pinned my heart against my back.

I lowered my eyes, accepting the incoming photo.

Anything was less unnerving than staring back at him .

It was like staring up at the sun on a summer day just before a solar eclipse.

He was a rare occasion, but he was a sight to behold when he did come around.

In my dreams.

In reality .

My mouth was instantly drained of its moisture at once, making it hard to swallow the lump in my throat. I stared down at the image, astounded by its beauty. The sunrise was stunning. So was I, seemingly running towards the darkness and the light as they collided.

“Here.”

I looked up to find him in my personal space for the tenth time since he’d stolen my AirPod. This time, he wasn’t offering me water alone. He was offering a small bottle and a cool towel that he’d drenched in ice-cold H2O.

“So there are no excuses when I tell you it’s time to go.”

His assertiveness was appalling and addicting, simultaneously. He was a secure man. Confidence oozed from those pretty brown eyes and that rigid jawline.

Denying him access to me right now wasn’t an option. Not because he said so, but because it wasn’t plausible for me. I wasn’t ready to let him go. He still felt like a dream.

“You’re a stalker of some kind?” I asked, deflecting because I had no other words for him. This man was breathtaking. His beauty was beyond me. It was almost unreal how perfect he appeared.

“You’re some kind of sick.” He chuckled.

“Because you haven’t pressed the issue with your two extras over there who follow you everywhere and keep giving me death stares.

Neither have you screamed, run in the other direction, or told me I should leave you the fuck alone.

In a strange way, you’re amused by, aroused by, and engrossed in my presence.

“Though I’m the only one showing it, Rome, you want me here. In your face. Taking your pictures while you’re oblivious. Making you chug water so you won’t grow faint. Demanding you wipe the little sweat you’ve managed so that you can come with me. And, keeping my promise to feed you.”

Silenced, I watched him back away from me. He didn’t stop until he was at the black Denali with black rims and a matte coating. He pulled the door open and leaned inside. When he reappeared, stretching his full length, he removed the sweaty top he’d been wearing during the run.

Saliva pooled in my mouth. I didn’t need the water he’d given me. I’d produced enough to fill a river.

His eyes found mine again. Mine found the ground. I utilized the towel for its intended purpose. Limb by limb, I began to clean the sweat from my skin.

The ridges of the towel were soft and fluffy, assuring me it wasn’t a cheap, off-brand hand towel.

He’d done well. Or, whoever had purchased his necessities had done well.

Either way, I was impressed. From the stories I’d heard, men lived like cave animals in the absence of a woman, be it their mother, significant other, sister, grandmother, or friend.

I wasn’t familiar with that version of the male species. Every man I’d ever said more than a few words to lived like royalty and carried themselves as kings. My circle was tailored.

I didn’t associate with those who didn’t think as I thought, live as I lived, or carry themselves as I carried myself. Their network was another story. To be around me or anyone in my family, your account must reflect the liability you immediately became once in our company.

“Where should I put it?”

Inside of me .

My thoughts rang out, startling me. I closed my eyes, searching for the familiarity of this feeling. It didn’t matter how deep I searched, I couldn’t find anything. Neither could I discern the direction of my thoughts, actions, or feelings.

It was as if I was standing in the middle of an empty stadium with only one member in the audience. He was waiting on me, counting on me to be his entertainment for the day. And, sadly, I was drawing blanks.

Craving a man at this level was petrifying.

Trembling fingers continued gliding the towel across my body as I desperately tried to silence the lust overcoming me.

I’d kept my virginity intact for twenty-four years, yet the man standing in front of me could have it before the sun was completely in the sky if he asked.

Pathetic . I laughed inside, softening the blows a bit.

“Excuse me?” I asked, finally facing the music. Finally facing the man.

“Your picture. It’s frame-worthy. Where should I put it?”

“I’m not sure.” I shrugged. “I haven’t been to your home. I’d be leading you blindly.”

“The mantle,” he responded. “I’m going to put it on the mantle.”

I nodded. “Sounds– good, I guess .”

The idea of my picture on the mantle of his home should’ve had me running up Mt. Clarke, full speed, or yelling for Koen and August. Instead, I pressed my feet deeper into the gravel, standing my ground as I stared up at him.

Intrigued.

Enchanted.

Tantalized.

Enthralled.

Fascinated by the mythical creature before me. He was agonizingly absorbing in the most pleasant, sweetest way. Not only was he easy on the eyes, he was easy on the heart. Easy on the soul. A breath of fresh air.

I breathed out heavily, releasing my transgressions. There was no room for them with him around. He required too much space. Too much energy. Too much.

“And, consider this an open invitation to my home. You’re welcome any time. Any day.”

“You don’t know me.” My thoughts rang out. I’d never intended for him to hear me.