Chapter Thirteen

This time when Monday morning rolled around, Noah was already up and dressed before his alarm went off—no more lingering around with his dick in his hand. He hadn’t texted Amanda since their little tryst at her office last week, but she hadn’t texted him, either. He didn’t know a lot about the etiquette of casual mistakes, but he was pretty sure that meant they were officially done.

Which is a good thing. Even if it didn’t feel very good for every second he was stuck living through it, trying to force his leaden legs to move.

It was cold as his feet hit the pavement. Winter was just around the corner, and the sky was gray and threatening rain. He jogged west from Yorktown and into the park. A cool mist hung in the air. Noah had to admire his clients’ commitment. He sure didn’t feel like being up this early in the dreary cold, and he was getting paid for it.

But in some way, he had to be thankful for the shitty weather and how tired and grumpy he was. It was a nice reminder of what he wouldn’t have to deal with in L.A. He’d have normal hours, and his office would have heat—which he wouldn’t even need most of the time. How had he lasted this long scraping by in New York? Maybe Kristina had done him a favor by making him shake up his life.

When he got to the meeting spot at the Central Park reservoir, he blew on his hands and started counting heads. Then it was time for the warm up: an easy mix of walking, jogging, lunges, and squats before the real work began. This was one of his favorite groups of new runners, training for the New York City Half Marathon—their first long race.

He was going over his mental list of exercises when he noticed someone walking down the path. The park was always full, even this early on a wretched day. But that shock of bleached hair caught his eyes immediately.

Amanda?

I must be seeing things.

She didn’t run. She didn’t wake up early. She definitely didn’t do either of those things in conjunction with him.

But there was no mistaking who was coming down the path, wearing black leggings, something with a hood, and a bright puffy jacket. She was carrying the largest Starbucks coffee ever invented, her hands gripped tight around the cup for warmth. She wasn’t wearing a hat or gloves, and her fingers were red, her lips pinched tightly together. He’d thought he was cold and miserable this morning, but it was nothing compared to how she looked.

Not that it stopped her from walking right up to him. He peeled away from the group, trying to stave her off before his clients started wondering what was going on.

“What are you doing here?” he said, keeping his voice low.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m working.”

“I know, and I’ll wait. But I didn’t know where else to find you.” She took a sip of coffee and shivered. “I thought we should talk in person.”

He opened his mouth. He wasn’t sure what to say. “Are you kidding?”

“Do I look like I’m having fun?”

“Okay,” he finally decided, because he wasn’t sure what else to say. “Give me a sec.”

He got everyone started off on squats and lunges—the kind that kept them walking away from him so he could have five seconds of privacy while his brain reeled.

This wasn’t part of the plan. He’d spent all this time convincing himself it was over—thank God, so he didn’t have to figure out what it meant that he’d had sex with Amanda on a conference table in his brother’s office. Everyone had rebounds, slip-ups, one-time things with people they never saw again. It wasn’t worth worrying about.

But here she was standing in front of him. He folded his arms. “So talk.”

“Jesus, never mind,” she said, stepping back.

His shoulders tightened, but he let his stance relax. “I’m just cold, okay? And surprised to see you.”

“That whole texting thing didn’t work out so well.”

“Is that what you came to talk about?”

“I told you that we can’t keep doing this.”

“This as in meeting at six a.m. in Central Park when it’s freezing outside and I’m supposed to be leading a group in butt kicks?”

“Butt—what?”

“Never mind. It’s a running thing. But consider it done—we won’t make you crashing my training group a regular thing.”

She blew into her coffee in a huff. “I’m being serious, Noah. Not this.” She gestured around them. “I mean the other stuff.”

Her cheeks reddened from more than the cold. He couldn’t deny he felt a jolt of satisfaction at the sight. The reminder of that “other stuff” made him feel as warm as if he’d already done a lap around the water.

He tried not to smile. He told his face not to crack. He swore he wasn’t going to do it.

But goddammit, Amanda had a way of making all his plans go haywire.

“So let me get this straight,” he said. “You woke up before dawn. To come all the way from Brooklyn to Central Park. In the cold, when it’s about to rain. To see me.”

“It’s not like that,” she said, clutching the coffee cup even tighter now. “I’m trying to tell you in person, not over text, that we absolutely can’t keep doing this anymore.”

“Then don’t do it,” he said.

“Me?” Her jaw dropped. “You’re the one who followed me into the conference room. I’m trying to tell you—we can’t.”

His lips quirked up at the corners. Damn that smile. “I don’t remember you complaining so much when I had to cover your mouth to keep you from screaming my name.”

There. Her cheeks. She didn’t just flush—she flamed.

“That’s not—” she sputtered.

He took a step closer, glancing behind him to see the runners coming back from their route.

“Do you want to know what I think?” he whispered as the group began their stretches.

“Why do I have the feeling you’re going to tell me anyway?” she mumbled into the steam of her cup, not looking at him.

“I think you came here because you wanted to see me. I think you spent all week agonizing about whether to text me again, and you came all this way at the crack of dawn not to tell me off, but to tell me something entirely different.”

“I told you why I came,” she said. But her voice was quiet, not how she usually sounded, and she was still looking down.

He reached out and lifted her chin so he was looking into her eyes, dark and liquid in the clouds. She was beautiful. Early in the morning, sleep in her eyes, smell of coffee and damp leaves all around them. She was absolutely beautiful.

He wanted to kiss her right then. Press his lips to hers, close his eyes, and never stop.

The feeling caught him off guard, making him stagger back like he’d lost his balance. He saw her eyes narrow at him, as though his thoughts had flashed right across his forehead for the world to know.

Or maybe she was just confused because he was acting like an idiot, like he could barely keep himself upright. And there was no reason for that.

Is there?

He grabbed her coffee cup from her, his fingers brushing hers, and took a sip, pressing his mouth where hers had just been. “Come on,” he said. “We’re doing interval runs around the reservoir. No one’s running for speed, though. You can walk as much as you want.”

Her eyes popped. “No,” she said as soon as she realized what he was suggesting.

“What’s the rule about running club?” Noah turned and called out to the group now assembled behind them.

“All you have to do is keep moving!” everyone shouted in unison.

“Doesn’t have to be fast, doesn’t have to be pretty, but your feet have to leave the ground,” he said to Amanda. “You’re here anyway.”

To the group, he said, “Guys, we have a new runner today. This is Amanda, and she’s not a morning person. I’d say be nice to her, but she’ll probably bite my head off.”

She turned to him sharply. “Did I ever tell you that I hate you?”

“A dozen times this week alone. But now you have peer pressure.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her reaction. The group was getting impatient, calling for her to join them, promising to start slow.

He wasn’t sure what she was going to do. Punch him in the nose? Dump coffee all over him and storm off? Never speak to him again?

But she laughed.

It was such a surprise that he laughed, too, and called for everyone to circle up. Weirdly, he wasn’t so cold anymore, and the day didn’t seem quite so gray. At least Amanda hadn’t bothered with the boots this morning, opting for pretty kick-ass sneakers instead. She probably thought she was just throwing on something fast to get herself out the door, but it had been the right choice.

Had she meant for this to happen? Was it all a coincidence? Was he kidding himself completely?

He couldn’t say, but he wasn’t sure it mattered. All he knew for certain was how much he was going to love making her sweat.