Page 102 of Crushed By Love

She nods. “We didn’t love each other enough to make it through the long haul. Sure, we cared deeply, but there was always something missing with us. By the end we only got engaged because that’s what was expected of us.”

I wonder if Ethan feels the same way and I doubt it. The man I met was completely hung up on Sybil. He never acted like their relationship was a lie. Maybe her father’s affair hit her harder than she lets on. Maybe she really did think they were going to make it but discovering her father wasn’t faithful shook her foundation. Could she be looking back on that relationship with a jaded attitude instead of seeing the love they shared?

“I’m sorry.” I take her hand and squeeze. She squeezes back and offers a smile.

“It was hard to break up with Ethan at the time, but it was for the best for a multitude of reasons. We’re both better off.”

“You really think so?”

“Hell yeah. I love being single. Playing the field isn’t just for guys, you know.”

Something within me relaxes, like a tight tangle of knots finally slipping loose. This is the perfect opportunity to tell her about my history with Ethan. She’ll understand that I didn’t know her at the time. She won’t be angry with me and if anything she’ll be upset on my behalf. Maybe it will bring us closer together. We can even bitch about Ethan together.

“Stay away from the Kings,” she warns. “Take it from me, they’re bad news.”

“Well I agree with you there––” This is it. Tell her.

She fans her neck and sits forward. “I’m too hot. I’m heading in.”

Before I can gain the courage to stop her, Chandler and Hayes are back, racing each other to the pool, and Sybil’s up and drifting into the house like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

My tennis shoes slap against the hard sand where the surf has left an extra layer of density. I keep having to dodge the water whenever a larger wave rushes up the bank, but overall, running on the beach isn’t too bad. I’m sure I could move onto the loose stuff and make it ten times harder. No thanks.

I still run almost every morning. It’s my favorite exercise—I love starting my day out with an endorphin-fueled sense of accomplishment. Plus, running is accessible and cheap, and while I wouldn’t call it easy, it’s not too intense either. I went with Sybil to one of her cycling classes shortly after I moved in and that was much more difficult. When she tried to drag me to a Pilates reformer class the next week, claiming that it would make my butt rounder, I’d told her I would start going with her when she started running in the early mornings with me. She laughed and dropped the issue.

After almost a week on the island I’ve let myself get lazy, skipping all my morning runs. So this morning I’m running on the beach to punish my laziness, and I can already feel the inactivity biting at my sides and chasing my heels as a warning not to get too complacent. How fair is it that good conditioning can take months to build up but can disappear as quickly as the sand flinging behind my shoes?

“Hey!” someone calls out, blending into the background ambiance of my thoughts, but the calling continues. “Hey! Arden!”

I stop and turn around to find Cooper jogging down the beach. I let him catch up even though I don’t really want to talk to him. Sybil was right, I need to stay away from these people.

“How are you?” Sweat drips down his bare chest and he’s got a tattoo on his arm that wasn’t there when I last saw him shirtless. The black ink portrays angel wings with a Roman soldier’s helmet in front and a sword going through the whole thing. I’ll admit it’s an attractive addition to his physique. I wonder what it means but I don’t ask.

“You’re a runner now?” I ask instead.

The Cooper I knew never went running. He surfed and hit the home gym, but most of his cardio seemed to be spent in bed with his revolving door of women. And he certainly wasn’t ever awake this early.

He nods. “Yeah, I started last year.” Interesting. I wonder what happened last year to make him change his habits. “You didn’t answer my question. How are you?”

“I’m fine. What are you doing here?” The Kings’ estate isn’t on this side of the island. If he picked up running on the beach, good for him, but shouldn’t he stick to his territory?

“Looking for you.”

And there it is.

I shouldn’t be surprised he came right out with it. Cooper never was one to play games, often saying what he thought exactly when he thought it, even when that meant sticking his foot in his mouth.

“Why?” My eyes narrow.

He shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “Can we talk?”

I peer over my shoulder, as if expecting one of the Laurences to be watching. That’s silly because none of them are morning runners and I’m a few miles from the house. Either way, people like to gossip and I know better than to talk to Cooper out in the open.

Yet, I do it anyway.

“Sure.” I motion to the direction I was headed and start walking. My eyes stay trained on the darkened sand, waiting for another big wave to dodge.

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