Page 36 of See You at the Finish Line

Fuck.

Why did I do that? Out of all the ways I could have reacted, pretending to forget her was probably the worst. I have never felt this awful about an interaction with a woman. Worse than last night, when I accidentally thought the woman at the club was Paige and then slept with her anyway.

My stomach sinks at the thought of Grace. Hooking up has never been my thing. I feel so guilty afterwards and can’t seem to make a clean break. Even last night, I knew Grace wasn’t expecting anything from me, yet I got her number and texted her this morning. We’re going out for drinks tonight.

Mateo laughs. “Dude.”

I bury my face in my hands. “I know.” My voice comes out muffled. “I panicked.”

“Panicking would be not saying anything or spitting out that you’re madly in love with her or admitting to stalking. Not this. You fucked up.”

“I know,” I repeat.

“Like, hard-to-come-back-from fucked up.”

“You are absolutely no help.”

“I could’ve helped if I was there, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do now.”

I chuck a pillow at him, but he catches it, tossing it onto the navy couch without a care.

After Maxim took Paige and the other massage therapist recruits away, I texted Mateo. He came immediately, already laughing his head off when he walked into the lounge.

“You pretended to forget her name. In this, the twenty-first century of our lord and social media.”

I actually hate myself.

“What do I do?” The feelings of complete despair and regret are suffocating me. The shock of seeing her mixes in, creating a cocktail that has my stomach in knots.

“I don’t know, Adam, I’ve never put myself in this stupid of a situation.”

“Do I tell her I panicked?”

“Probably.”

I know he’s right. “And then what? Ask her how the last two years have been?”

“You could tell her you’ve stalked her almost every day online. Tell her you love her. Propose?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“What am I supposed to do here? I remember her. Am I supposed to pretend that I don’t? Because no way am I doing that,” Mateo says.

I lean back into the couch, the knots in my stomach twisting tighter every time her shocked face flashes in my mind. What the hell do I do?

“She clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me. Maybe this is for the best.”

Mateo throws the pillow back at me. “You had a hard enough time forgetting her when she was just a picture on a screen and lived in a different country. Do you really think you can get over her while she’s working here?”

“Maybe she’s not as perfect as I remember. It was probably just the race adrenaline anyway.”

“I guess we’ll see how she treats you.”

She’s all I can think about all day. I catch glimpses of her here and there, but I largely stay out of her way. It’s a cowardly move, even if I tell myself it’s for her benefit and not mine.

I’m halfway through a text to cancel with Grace tonight when I change my mind. I may have acted like a dick to Paige, but I can’t cancel a date I just set up this morning. I was going to miss the mixer no matter what, no sense in changing my mind.

I sneak out of the arena early to avoid any more awkward encounters. I have way too much energy before meeting with Grace so as soon as I get home, I change quickly and head out for a run. It’s drizzly, and a touch of autumn’s chill has entered the air. Myfavourite running weather has come at the right time, so I pound the trail hard, blasting my music to drown out thoughts of Paige. Thoughts of last night. Thoughts of what an asshole I am.

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