Page 13 of Stay (Stay #1)

CASSIDY

I t’s not quite seven in the morning as I run through the sleeping streets of the small-town Western University calls home.

The sun is just beginning to peek over the horizon, washing everything in a soft pink glow.

The air is crisp, the leaves overhead vibrant in their orange, red, and yellow colors.

After the hockey game last week, I made the decision to slowly start incorporating exercise back into my routine again.

In high school, I’d spent a ton of time working out and skating.

After failing out last year, that had been another thing that had fallen by the wayside.

I’ve decided to run three times a week. Okay, so maybe it’s more of a jogging/speed walking type of thing but still… I’m out there, doing it.

I’m pretty sure that counts for something.

Not working out six days a week for the last nine months has taken a toll on my waistline. I used to be muscular and toned all over. Now, not so much. I’m a lot softer than I once was.

One side benefit to working out is that it helps clear my head.

I’d spent so much of my high school years exercising that this feels like a little piece of normal clicking back into place.

Today, I haven’t stopped once to walk, and I’m already twenty-five minutes into my run.

I push myself a bit more and turn onto Elm Street for my usual loop.

Just as I round the corner, another jogger comes into view.

He has a long-legged stride that eats up the sidewalk between us.

I veer to the right so we can pass each other.

When he’s about thirty feet from me, my belly hollows and I realize that it’s Cole.

He looks more delicious than any sweaty guy has a right to.

I, on the other hand, know that my face is beet red as if I could stroke out at any moment.

When our gazes collide, he slows his pace before stopping about five feet away.

I have no choice but to do the same. Nerves scamper across my exposed flesh.

His smile is tentative as his eyes drift over me. “Hi.”

He doesn’t even sound winded.

“Hi,” I huff, trying to catch my breath. Even though my heart is racing, I doubt it’s from the physical exertion. That’s the kind of effect Cole has on me.

I half expect him to jokingly throw out a stalker comment, but he doesn’t. Guess we’ve moved on from that. It should make me happy, instead it leaves me feeling oddly bereaved. It’s like I can’t have a normal relationship with someone because I’m too screwed up.

His eyes hold mine; their golden intensity arrowing straight through the heart of me, and I shiver in the early morning sunlight.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks.

“Great.” Lie. “How about you?”

In all honesty, I’m not sure if I want to know. I’m half afraid he’s already moved on to a nice, normal girl. One who doesn’t fall apart when he touches her.

Awkwardness descends like a heavy blanket, until it feels as if I could choke on it. What sucks most is that all of the other times we’ve been together, our banter felt effortless. This is anything but. All I can think about is escaping before this situation jackhammers to an all new low.

“I’ve been busy with school and practice,” he says. His eyes are focused intently on mine as if he’s trying to figure out what’s going on between us .

When he opens his mouth to say more, I cut him off, needing to pull the plug on this disastrous conversation. “I bet. Well, I’d better get back to it.”

His lips lift at the edges, but it’s nowhere near a full-fledged smile. Not like the ones he showered on me before he realized I was a nutjob. There are definitely no dimples in sight.

I wince.

Why does that even matter?

I’m frustrated with myself for feeling hurt by this awkward interaction. Clearly, I’m in no frame of mind to be anything more than a friend to Cole. On second thought, maybe not even that.

Just as I’m about to take off, he slides over, blocking my path. He reaches out but at the last second, drops his arms to his sides. My wide gaze tracks the movement before they swing up to his again.

He must sense the questions burning in my eyes because he clears his throat. “I’ve noticed that you don’t like to be touched.”

Neither of us move. I barely feel as if I’m breathing.

It takes effort to suck in a deep breath before forcing it out again.

I’m not panicking. I’m more embarrassed that he’s figured me out so easily.

Now that he’s spoken the words out loud, there’s no way to ignore my behavior or pretend it doesn’t exist. And that’s hard.

It leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed, like I need to explain myself to him.

“No,” I say quietly, “I don’t.” As difficult as it is, I leave it at that.

He takes a tentative step toward me. When I don’t retreat, he takes another, and then a third until I have to crane my neck to hold his steady gaze. He’s so close that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. It’s as if he’s the sun and I’m drawn to the warmth.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Cassidy,” he whispers. He pauses, gaze searching mine. “I’ve tried to,” he admits, with more honesty than I’ve given him, “but I can’t.”

Air gets trapped in my lungs as my mind spins. I guess we have that in common. As much as I want to push him to a place where I no longer think about him, I haven’t been able to do it. I’ve never felt so conflicted in my life. I’m not ready for what he forces me to feel .

It scares me.

He scares me.

“Breathe,” he says. The moment he murmurs the words, I realize I’ve been holding my breath. Very slowly I release it back into the atmosphere. “I’m going to touch your shoulders, okay?” His words are calm, soothing.

I can breathe.

I’m not panicking.

My chest doesn’t feel tight or achy.

“Okay.”

Almost in slow-motion, he brings his hands up until they’re able to rest lightly on my shoulders.

“What are we going to do about this?”

His words are like a calm stream washing over me. Somewhere deep inside me, they spark a flicker of hope that maybe he sees more in me than I’m capable of seeing in myself.

Confused and unsure, I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I really don’t. There are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea. A thousand reasons why a relationship between us is doomed to fail.

Before I can think better of it, I whisper, “I’m a little bit broken.” Probably more than just a little.

For a long silent moment, he holds my gaze with his golden one. “You don’t have to tell me anything right now, but if we’re going to do this, you’ll have to trust me enough to let me in.”

My teeth scrape against my bottom lip. “What if I can’t?” It’s hard to imagine forcing out the words.

Especially to Cole.

“We’ll take it slow, Cassidy. So slow that it won’t even feel like we’re moving.” The edges of his lips tip upward as his fingers press into my shoulders.

“Why?” How can he be this patient?

I shake my head, still scared, but feeling a tiny bit of hope as well. “Why are you bothering with this? With me?” He has to realize there’s something wrong with me. He has to know that a relationship won’t be easy .

Because I’m not easy.

Not anymore.

He cocks his head, and for the first time in more than a week, I watch as a genuine smile curves his lips. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my heart flutters at the sight of his dimples.

He chuckles as if the reason should be obvious. “Because you’re all I’ve been able to think about since I met you. Whatever secrets you’re keeping, you can trust me with them.” The smile fades as a serious expression replaces it. “I won’t hurt you.”

Here’s the thing…I can’t jump blindly off the cliff with him. Even if he makes me feel like I want to. “I need some time.”

He pulls me a bit closer. It’s nowhere near close enough to be flush against his body, only enough to tease me with the heat of him. “I can give you that.”

The corners of my lips tentatively slide upward.

Here’s a guy who has seen me lose it and isn’t running for the hills. It makes me wonder if I can really trust him.

“Are you coming to our party Friday night?”

“I think so. Brooklyn has only mentioned it a few dozen times.” Probably more. If I have to hear one more word about Austin, I’m going to be sick.

He grins. “I’m sure she has since I asked Austin to make sure his new girl brought her roommate along.”

I chuckle as his fingers squeeze the tops of my shoulders again. An arrow of heat shoots through me.

I glance away, watching as a car speeds past us. “I should probably get back to the dorms.” I need to shower and get ready for class.

“How about I run back with you?”

I shake my head. “You don’t have to do that.”

The sun shines down on us, warming our skin. People from neighboring houses are sliding into their cars and leaving for work or school. It’s perfectly safe for me to be out running by myself.

One side of his mouth quirks. “I want to.”

That’s when I realize it’s not a safety issue for him. He wants to spend more time with me .

“Okay,” I concede, knowing I’ll enjoy the feel of him at my side.

We take off, jogging back to my dorm, which is about a mile and a half away.

I’m sure he has to slow his pace, even though I try to quicken mine.

Neither of us speak, instead we listen to our iPods.

When we finally arrive in front of Washington Hall, the girls’ dorm, I turn to him, my chest heaving.

When I’m finally able to form words, I say, “I’ve just started running again. I’m a little out of shape.” It’s almost embarrassing that I used to run five miles in less than fifty minutes, three times a week, to keep my stamina high.

“You don’t look out of shape.” His gaze slides over my body.

If my cheeks hadn’t already been heated from our physical exertion, he would have seen the hot blush scorching them.

“How often do you run now?”

I suck in another breath as my heart continues to jackhammer. “Three times a week. Usually Monday, Wednesday, and Friday around six thirty.” I actually want to double over, but there’s no way I’m doing that in front of him.

He nods, stretching his calf muscles. “Would you like some company?”

I’d love to spend more time with him…

“I won’t be able to keep up with you,” I admit, “I’m not fast enough.” My brows draw together as I take a good look at him. “You’re not even breathing hard,” I accuse.

That is so unfair. I’m practically ready to keel over and he looks as if he’s been out for a Sunday stroll. Even worse than that—it was only a mile and a half.

So pathetic.

He flashes a grin, showing off his dimples. And just like it always does, something warm slides through me at the sight of them.

“I run and lift weights four times a week. Plus, we’re on the ice every day but Sunday,” he chuckles. “I’d better be in good shape, or my hockey career would be over with pretty damn fast.”

Still unsure, I warn, “You won’t get much of a workout if we run together. ”

He places his hands on my shoulders before giving them a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t ask permission, but moves slowly enough that I could stop him if I wanted. For some reason, that makes me feel better. More in control of the situation. Cole isn’t going to rush me into something I’m not ready for.

He holds my gaze. “I’m not looking for a challenge. I want to spend time with you doing something we both enjoy.”

A wide smile spills across my face as I nod. “Okay.”

I like the idea of waking up and running with him three times a week.

He squeezes my shoulders one last time. “Save me a seat in Psych?”

“I will.” Another flutter erupts in my belly. I enjoy my Psychology class, but now I’m looking forward to it even more.

When he leans toward me, I think that maybe he’ll kiss me. I draw in a deep breath and wait as a strange concoction of longing and fear spiral through me. Instead, he presses a soft kiss against my forehead before pulling away and searching my eyes.

He smiles as if he can feel the disappointment flooding through me. “Slow, right?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I suck my lower lip between my teeth and nod.

In that moment, I realize just how much I wanted to feel the warm pressure of his lips coasting over mine.

With a wave, Cole takes off, heading back to his house at a much faster clip. As I watch him, I feel surprisingly happier than I’ve been in a long time.