Page 19

My mind is a whirlpool of unresolved emotions, the spiral I’m desperately trying to delay.

I looked up a boxing gym in the area; it’s half an hour away, but with the burn on my hand.

.. That’s pretty much out of the question.

I can’t just sit here, though, so I hop out of bed, put my workout clothes on, and settle on going for a run.

Cold mountain air and muscle exhaustion might do the trick.

I grab an energy drink from the fridge and pop it open.

It tastes like a creamsicle, it’s one of my favorites.

I put the can down on the counter and flip my head upside down to pull it up in a high ponytail.

When I stand back up, my hand flies to my mouth as I smother a scream.

“Jesus, Tatum,” I say once my eyes adjust enough to make out the figure standing in the shadows.

“Do you get some sort of satisfaction from scaring the piss out of me?” He steps further into the light and damn him.

He’s in grey sweatpants with no shirt on, his feet covered in white socks, and perfectly messy sleep hair.

“Going somewhere?” He asks, completely ignoring my question as he slides his hands into his pockets, drawing my attention to his eight pack, more specifically, the V-lines chiseled straight from marble.

When my eyes t ravel back up his body, they land on a face that tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.

In place of his normal scowl, a devilish smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. Jerk.

I put a hand on my hip, crossing one ankle over the other as my free hip leans against the island.

I take a sip of my energy drink, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

His throat bobs as he watches me take a big sip.

“I am, actually.” My chin raises in challenge.

He hums before he turns and walks away. Okay then, what a riveting conversation that was.

I go back to my pre-workout routine, cutting a banana in half, peeling half, and putting the other back in the fruit basket for Hannah to eat when she wakes up.

When I’m done with that, I start to warm up with some leg swings, followed by quad stretches, calf raises, and finally, my favorite, a hip flexor stretch.

I stand up and turn to grab my water, but run straight into the chest I had been ogling ten minutes ago.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I take in his fully clothed form.

“You think you’re going out alone before 5 AM in a place you’ve never been before?” He huffs. “It’s dark, Tink. Fat freaking chance I’m letting you go wherever it is you’re going, alone.”

My hand runs down my face as I sigh. “I was going to go box, but last night's burn festivities kind of ruined that for me. So, I figured I’d go run.” He stares at me, eyes wide, stuck somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

Then, without a word, his head slowly tips back, and a low, breathy chuckle escapes him; his shoulders slightly shake as he fails miserably to keep his laughter at bay .

My arms cross over my chest, my foot impatiently taps as I try to wrap up this delay in my plans. “I’m sorry,” he says as he holds up his hand. “It sounded like you said you were going to go run, in the middle of the mountains, where you have zero idea where you’re going, alone.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” His face falls, void of any emotion, as he steps into my space.

He leans down, his movement slow and deliberate, like the apex predator he is.

This close, I can see the freckles that dot his cheekbones, the way his eyelashes cast a shadow under his eyes.

The shine on his lips that follows his tongue as he drags it across the seam.

Damn it, I want to kiss him. I quickly look down at the floor, because if I don’t, I’ll do what I know I shouldn’t.

He places his finger softly under my chin, pushing lightly to tilt it up so there’s nowhere I can look but at him, “Over my dead body,” he grinds out.

Goosebumps cover my skin; he notices and runs his finger from behind my ear to my wrist, extending its trail.

It’s not uncommon for him to challenge me over everything, but I need to have control over something.

Exercise is what’s available to me at the moment.

I shake off the momentary lapse of judgment and turn toward the door.

“That can be arranged.” I mumble. As soon as my hand lands on the handle, I yank it open.

My adrenaline spikes the second I’m hit with the crisp bite of the air—a welcome distraction from the heated thoughts going through my head.

He follows, quietly shutting the door behind us. He lets me lead the way as we head up the side of the driveway to the trail I noticed from the balcony yesterday. I drop a pin at our starting location in case we get lost; then, I take one last deep breath. “Try to keep up, soccer star. ”

I know he can keep up for short sprints, but I’m not going for a short, quick run. I’m going for muscle exhausting, lung burning, tear producing distance. I need my head to be empty of any rational thought other than how much it hurts to breathe at the end of this.

My arms are pumping, my breath coming out in short, harsh pants, feet pounding against the dirt.

My watch just informed me that mile two is complete.

I don’t feel done yet, though, I feel restless.

Like the tiniest snag of the thread attached to my sanity is a brush away from unraveling completely.

This isn’t a fight to see how far I can get.

This is a fight to regain control of myself.

I’m close to mile three when a cliff edge comes into view.

I gasp at its beauty, the mountains in the distance look purple in this light.

The sky breaks into shades of orange and red, fog hanging heavy in the valley below.

Clouds are scattered throughout the sky, but it's the vastness of the mountain range that has me mesmerized.

“Woah,” I hear from behind me. He steps up next to me as we look out over the landscape in the valley below.

I don’t know how long we stand there in silence, just taking everything in.

It’s easy to get caught up in the mundane parts of life, and we forget just how small we are compared to the rest of the world.

I take a step toward the edge, his hand shoots out and grabs ahold of mine. I shoot him a questioning glance, “I’m just going to sit and watch the sunrise.” I motion to the ground in front of me. “Wanna join?”

He steps forward, not letting go of my hand until we’re sitting a safe distance from the edge. “Why did we just run three miles up a mountain?” He asks, his eyes trained on the swaying trees across the gorge .

How do I put this in a way that doesn’t make me look like a crazy woman? “I needed to clear my head.”

“Of?” He turns slightly so his body is angled toward mine. I shouldn’t feel this relaxed with him, so safe, like I can expose all my cuts and bruises to him. But here we are, making questionable decisions once again.

I grab my phone, pulling up the text thread I got last night.

Three more texts came in after the initial one.

Each one was more confusing and more concerning.

His brows knit together as he reads each of them.

He screenshots the messages before sending them to himself, “Is this why you went and hid last night?” he asks as he puts my phone back in the pocket on the side of my leggings.

I nod as I take in the pinkish hue now coloring the sky in front of us. “I don’t know who it is, but I have a feeling it’s one of the guys from the other night.”

He’s quiet for a second before he forcefully exhales, “I won’t let anything happen to you, but you can’t take off by yourself.

No one is familiar with these surroundings.

We’d never find you if something happened.

” He shakes his head as he looks at the ground.

“Promise me you won’t run off. Come get me if you need to go somewhere. ”

My eyes trace the peaks of the mountains as I try to articulate why I needed to go run this morning.

“Hannah doesn’t know what happened,” I whisper as if voicing it makes me an awful friend.

She’s shared everything with me. I’ve seen and heard it all, but I couldn’t let her into my hurt.

“They were Kyle’s teammates.” The muscles in his arms tighten as his hands squeeze his shins.

Kyle, Hannah’s sleazeball of an ex, played basketball for the college we went to.

Ryan was one of his teammates, the campus golden boy.

The adverse-to-relationship guy who just wanted to ‘focus on playing ball.’ When he started showing a bit of interest in me, I thought I was special.

Little did I know I was just a pawn in his sick plan.

“I didn’t have the control issues I have now before it happened.

” I take a deep breath, letting the chilly air fill my lungs.

“But now, if I feel like things are out of my control, I start to spiral.” Three men I never wanted to see again, a kiss that knocked me on my ass, while simultaneously making me realize I don’t hate the man I’ve convinced myself is the most selfish, unlikeable human on planet Earth.

Then sprinkle in some texts from an unknown person, yeah, this is the most out of control I’ve felt since that night.

“I figured if I could control what happens around me, I’d never find myself in a position like that again.

I’d like to be a go with the flow type of person, but I don’t know how to do that anymore.

” I pull my knees into my chest, wrapping my arms around the front.

My cheek rests against the tops of my knees, so I’m looking at him when I continue, “I can control my body, and I need to have a hold on something. That’s why I got up to run. ”

He turns his attention from the trees to me, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. I follow the movement, my eyes quickly jump back to his. “What if you went with the flow for the week?” he asks. “You know, just let go a bit?”

Let go? Did he hear a single word I just said?

He must see my hesitation because he scoots closer to me, his freckles taking a front row seat in the light of the rising sun.

“I’m sure Megan tells you that you need to work on loosening your grip on control.

” How does he do that? That’s almost verbatim what Megan has said to me five hundred times in the past nine years .

He places his hand on my ankle, our eyes still locked on each other as he says, “This week only, let go of control. I’ll work on letting you in while giving you a safe space to relinquish some of that hold.

You have to be tired.” He squeezes my ankle as he leans his head on my shoulder.

“Let go with me.” My head tilts to rest on top of his.

He’s right. I am tired. Mentally, I’m exhausted. Physically, I’m burnt out. And maybe, just maybe, he can offer me an out that I can’t get with the people I work with and see every day. I don’t have to be “on” around him; I can just be.

Taking a deep breath, I straighten myself up, closing my eyes for a few seconds, as I run through every possible outcome. “What does that look like?” I ask. “I mean, I can try, but I need rules. I can’t just throw caution to the wind and say ‘screw it.’”

A smile blooms as his hand snakes to the back of his neck. “Why not?” My face drops, and it pulls a deep laugh out of him, one that has warmth spreading through my veins like wildfire. Are these butterflies? Is this what Hannah is always talking about when Greyson does something cute for her?

“I think it looks like being friends. I could use some more of those. When you feel the need to control something, give me a signal. I’ll create a distraction or get you out of your head,” he says so nonchalantly that I’m starting to think he practiced this.

I snort. “You want me to use the bat signal?” He shakes his head as he looks down at the ground but he’s still smiling, I’ll call that a win.

He picks up a stick he starts to draw in the dirt.

I’m trying to hold in my laughter as I watch him drag and twirl, creating a picture out of us as stick people.

This man is full of surprises. He’s good at drawing, he draws the sun coming up over the ridge of the mountains above our little stick figures.

The level of detail he’s achieved in such a short amount of time and with the materials he has is impressive.

“Wow, that’s pretty.” I breathe as he sets the stick down and wipes his hands together to get the dirt off.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and snap a quick picture. Noting the time, I start to panic. The house we’re staying in is full of athletes who wake up early. They’re going to notice we’re gone.

He catches the change in my mood and puts his hand on my shoulder, firm and grounding.

“Relax, Tink,” he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous octave.

“We just went for a run.” Amusement laces his words, like the idea that they’d question our whereabouts is ridiculous.

As if we’re still the same people who barely tolerate each other.

But we aren’t, are we? Not entirely, at least. Not in this moment.

“Smile,” he says as he pulls me into his side.

His phone is in front of us in seconds as I glare at the side of his face.

I barely have time to register his stupid, teasing grin before the camera clicks.

My scowl intensifies as he lowers his arm, but when the picture pops up on the screen between us, we both break into laughter.

It’s so backward from the normal dynamic.

Him grinning like he’s the town's golden boy, all easy charm and reckless confidence.

Me glowering beside him, unimpressed and not likely to play nice.

As much as I want to fight it, here, on top of this mountain, basking in the soft glow of the sunrise, it feels different.

Less like we have to rip each other to shreds. More like a truce.

He pockets it as he stands and offers me his hand, “I sent it to Greyson,” he says as he pulls me up.

“Let him know we went for a run and didn’t kill each other.

” It’s my turn to smile. This one do esn't feel fake or forced. I push him with my shoulder, it’s the only warning he gets before I’m running back down the mountain yelling, “Catch me if you can.”