Page 38 of See You at the Finish Line

“My hips and hamstrings are always sore,” Julien admits, his accented voice deep and quiet. Paige nods and makes a note on her tablet.

“Is that because you favour your lower body over your upper body?”

I bristle. Yeah, yeah, Julien’s a beefcake.

He rubs the back of his neck, his bicep flexing. “Is it that obvious?”

“If I’m being honest, no, not really.” She scans his body again and heat flares in my face. “Though it’s common enough that I always ask when clients, especially goalies, speak about leg tightness.”

“It’s the extra running we’ve been doing since this guy started working here.” Julien, traitor that he is, jabs a thumb at me, and I have to try to look like I’m not paying attention to them. I see Paige glance at me from the corner of her eye, and something about her posture changes. I don’t know if anyone else noticed.

“I’m glad to hear he’s still running,” she says with a smile. Odd, why would she say that?

“Oh right, you did that ultramarathon together.”

Fuck Julien. I never liked him.

Paige’s laugh is a little hollow. “We only met there, we didn’t do it together,” she corrects, not bothering to add anything about us getting disqualified together. The memory of that moment makes my insides hurt.

“So you like to run?”

“I used to.”

I can’t help it. I’m so surprised I whip my head towards her. She looks like she’s very much trying not to look in my direction.

“You don’t anymore?” he asks.

“Not so much.”

“Why?”

She gives a noncommittal shrug. “Life.”

Not a good enough answer, not at all. I silently urge Julien to ask her more, but because he’s a nice guy and can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it, he falls silent.

What an asshole. I hate that he’s a nice guy.

Pulling myself out of their conversation, I turn back to Connor, who’s giving me a strange look. He must have asked me a question.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I ask, like the tool I am.

“I was wondering if you’ve had your turn drawing a name?” he asks hesitantly.

“No, I’m um, I’m not going to be participating.”

“Why not?”

I shrug. “I don’t really like massages. No offence,” I add. “Massage therapists are great but, um, I’m ticklish.” What the hell is coming out of my mouth?

Connor laughs. A pity laugh. “Alright, no offence taken. It’s not for everyone.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go remind Demitri that I’ve opted out,” I say as normally as I can, escaping the conversation. I leave the room and let myself peek back as I exit through the doorway. My stomach drops when I don’t catch Paige looking at me.

I’m hopeless.

My thoughts wander as I look for Demitri, hoping I don’t run into Maxim instead.

Paige doesn’t run anymore. Is that because of me? Because of whatever reason she took a break from social media? Is Q okay? God, I want to ask her about Q. There are so many things I want to ask her.

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