Page 40 of See You at the Finish Line

“Gross, I do not get horny and turned on thinking you’re suffering.”

“You sure about that?”

“You don’t even sound like you’re suffering!”

I sigh.

“I knew it! You loved it!”

At least I didn’t have to admit it first. “I kind of did.”

I make my way back to the locker room, realizing next time I’ll need to bring a change of clothes and pick up some toiletries so I can shower. I’m soaked in sweat, and my damp clothes are making me cold.

“It was kind of great in a weird way,” she admits.

“Right? Like who knew we were detoxifying all these years in the summer? And I think I may have made a friend.”

“That’s great, Paige! What do you mean, ‘you think’?”

“I had a two-minute conversation with her at the end of class, and I know her name.”

“That’s definitely a start.”

We chat about the class and the different poses we learned. I put the phone down so I can throw my sweater on, and when I pick it back up, she’s still prattling on about how adorable my nephew is, like I don’t know from the fifty pictures she sends of him every day.

I’ll never complain about it. I miss them like crazy, and he already looks bigger even though I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks.

I get an email notification on my phone while she’s in the middle of trying to talk and breastfeed at the same time, which apparently is distracting for baby Levi now that he’s three months old and all grown up. I pull the phone away and put her on speaker, grateful I’m in my car in the parking lot when I read what comes through.

A few keywords stick in my brain.

Staff 5k Charity Race.

Mandatory.

Adam Ashford.

“Damn it,” I accidentally whisper out loud.

Like a dog who can hear their human eating food from the other room, my sister doesn’t miss it, even over the sound of Levi crying. “What? What happened?”

There’s no use trying to hide it from her. I learned a long time ago that Leah is relentless in making me tell her things I don’t want to. She sees my boundaries as an obstacle course.

“Apparently I have to run a 5k.”

“Youhaveto? Who says you have to?” I smile at her momma-bear tone. But this isn’t a battle she can fight for me.

“The company I’m trying to ... fit in with.”

“You’re not fitting in? Is Adam giving you trouble?”

“No, Leah, he’s not.” I sigh.

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re tired of talking to me.”

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