Ryan: How goes the hunt?
Noah: Out of season.
Ryan: They can’t be that serious if she hasn’t mentioned him to Claire.
Noah: That would be more convincing if I hadn’t seen them. Or heard her roommate’s glowing reports.
Ryan: I’m serious. Sisters tell each other everything.
Noah: Did she ever mention I was her tutor?
Ryan: . . .
Noah: Ha
Ryan: Maybe I wasn’t listening.
Noah: If you had inside information from Ivy, that would be something.
Though Noah had only met her briefly on Halloween, Ivy’s name had come up often in the math lab. He was sure she and Grace were close, and he was willing to bet his left pinky that Ivy knew more about Grace’s current relationship status than anyone—with the possible exception of Jamie.
Ryan: Who’s Ivy?
Any hopes Noah had had of gleaning even a particle of useful information from Ryan were quickly dwindling to nothing.
Whether an optimist or a glutton for punishment, he had gone to last night’s YCS service project hoping for an opportunity to talk to Grace without Alec present. Unfortunately, she hadn’t come, so he’d spent most of the time with her roommate. As a result, he now knew everything Jamie did about the couple, including their dating habits and exactly how excited Grace had been the first time Alec kissed her.
In spite of the too-much-information so willingly proffered, the optimist inside him argued that Jamie was more enthusiastic about the relationship than her roommate was. He was no psychologist, but Grace hadn’t seemed all that taken with Alec.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Another text came through from Ryan. Claire knows who Ivy is.
Noah: So do I. That doesn’t mean she’s sharing information with me.
On the dark side of things, his time spent with Jamie was beginning to remind him of Amy’s dogged pursuit. He might have to change his approach to prevent a disaster there, but as painful as it was to hear Jamie’s Grace-and-Alec stories, he hated to give up the scoop. It would be a fine line to walk without hurting Jamie’s feelings.
Maybe if he expressed interest in one of the other girls or invented an imaginary girlfriend . . .
Ryan: Don’t let Grace be your Marianne.
Momentarily confused, Noah groaned when he caught the reference to the old Boston song, pulled himself out of bed, and changed into his running clothes. If he waited any longer, it would be too hot—the high for this first day of September was predicted at ninety-one. At not quite eight o’clock, it was still in the midseventies. Manageable.
It would have been cooler if he’d gone early, but Noah wasn’t much of a morning person. That was one of the things that had helped him choose which of his three job offers to accept—flexible hours. As long as he got his time in and his work done sometime between seven a.m. and nine p.m., his boss didn’t care what time he showed up or went home. Noah didn’t miss getting up at the crack of dawn to work construction and had quickly adjusted to a routine of going to bed when he wanted and getting up when he woke.
His phone buzzed again as he left—Ryan had sent a link to the “More Than a Feeling” music video. With a humph, Noah slid the phone into his armband and made for the gravel path that formed one side of the parking lot and flanked a canal. The waterway was one of several that snaked through the city, delivering river water to fields, orchards, and vineyards in Grand Valley.
The flat trail beckoned him to increase his pace and made him grateful to be off the streets. Lingering paranoia from Matt’s accident wasn’t overwhelming, but it was enough to make the bland route palatable. If he’d had the time, he would have tried a hike in Monument Canyon. He started his run playlist and zoned out, staying to the right in case anyone caught up with him from behind.
As he rounded a bend in the trail, he noticed a runner in the distance going the same direction. Another minute or so brought recognition—the form, the long legs, the swinging ponytail of dark, curly hair—along with a surge of speed and focus.
Definitely a glutton.
He caught up in a few minutes, slowing his pace when he neared so he wouldn’t overtake her in an overeager sprint. As he eased up on her left side, she heard his steps and slid right to let him pass. Instead he matched pace and watched her sideways with what was probably a goofy grin. Blame the runner’s high, he thought.
Grace ran on for a few more strides, her brows furrowed in concentration, before she shot an oblique glance at the weirdo matching her pace. When she recognized him, she smiled. “Hey!” she said.
“Hey!” he said back, pausing his music and removing the headphone on her side while reining in his grin. Don’t screw this up.
“Day off?” she asked in the shortened clips of run-talk.
“Flexible hours. You?” He knew very well—thanks to Jamie—what Grace’s hours were, but he thought it best to feign ignorance.
“Evenings.”
“You like it?”
“I do.” She looked left as they came to a street crossing. The furrows had taken hold again. “It’s not ideal for social life, but I enjoy my free mornings.”
“How’s the new kid?” he asked, remembering her worry at the social.
Her face relaxed as they crossed the empty street. “Doing better. His guide is really helping.”
“Guide?”
“Fellow student,” she said between breaths. “Further along in the program.”
“Ah. That’s good. And the dream job—is it everything you wanted?”
Her eyes narrowed.
Noah wanted to kick himself. She probably thought he was mocking her work again. “I mean, it sounds like you can make a big impact there. Do you enjoy it?”
Her tension eased. “It’s different than I expected. Harder.” She waved at a baby being pushed in a stroller by a woman walking the other direction. “Things are always different in reality than theory.”
“True.” Like placing himself in a position to pursue Grace, only to find she had a serious boyfriend.
“How about you?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“New job, right? Accountant?”
“Oh,” he said, recalling the drift of their conversation. “So far, so good. Healthy culture. Good people. Not as intense as the other firms I interviewed with.” Noah eased in behind Grace for a few strides to give an oncoming biker room to pass. “How’s your family?”
They settled into a nice rhythm as she chattered about her brothers’ sports and the harvest from her parents’ massive garden.
“Honestly, I don’t know why they plant so much. They have a hard time finding enough neighbors to eat it all.”
“How’s Claire’s baby?” he asked.
Grace’s steps sputtered.
Apparently she’d planned on ignoring their original connection, but the question had just slipped out. Choosing to act as though they were nothing more than old friends—and hoping Ryan hadn’t let slip to Grace that Noah had been asking about her—he went on. “Ryan mentioned a while back that they had a boy.”
Their eyes caught as he glanced sideways, and he tried to convey nothing more than friendly interest with his. That seemed to reassure her, and with another question or two from him, her face lit up as she talked about her niece and nephew.
She was complaining about how little time she got to spend with them when another street cut across the trail. “Oh!” she said, looking around. “I didn’t realize how far we’d come. I usually turn around before this.”
“Sorry,” Noah said, doing an about-face. “I probably threw off your groove.”
“Not at all.” She smiled. “It’s been a nice distraction. Besides, more mileage isn’t a bad thing. I don’t have to be to work until this afternoon. Are you going to be late?”
“Nah, I’m good.” He might have to work through lunch and into the evening, but if that was what it took to get some alone time with Grace, it was worth it.