Page 69 of See You at the Finish Line

“Gentle,” I tell her, and she carefully takes the whale into her mouth. When it squeaks, her tail starts back up again. All hesitation is gone as she plays with her new whale, Adam forgotten.

“You know that’s going to be destroyed by the end of the day?”

“I do,” he says, standing to face me. I’m clenching my robe closed, only because I don’t know what else to do with my hands with Adam in my apartment.

“Why are you here?” I ask when he stays silent.

“I needed to talk to you before the race.”

Paige narrows her eyes.“About what?” she asks.

“Do you want to get dressed first?”

I do not want her to get dressed. I want to rip that comfortable-looking robe off her, sling her over my shoulder, and take her to bed. But that reality can only exist in my fantasies. Especially now.

“Is it going to take that long?”

“I’m not sure.”

She raises her eyebrows and without another word, turns on her heel and walks back towards her bedroom. I am a teenage boy again because I cannot help the way my body reacts to the knowledge that she’s naked behind that door. I have to consciously tell my legs not to move.

Instead, I plop myself down on the couch to wait. Q comes over, the orca firmly in her jaws, and I’m glad I brought it for her. She really is a gorgeous dog. I bet she loves it here with her big thick coat of fur. I wonder if Paige has ever taken her swimming in the bay. She would love it.

“Making yourself at home?” Paige asks from behind me. I’m startled because I didn’t hear her come back into the room. I blurt the first thing that comes to my brain. Like an idiot.

“Not as much as you’ll make yourself at home when you come over to my house.” Does that even make sense? Why would I say that?

“And who said I’m going to your house?” she asks, crossing her arms. I’ve never seen her in anything except black leggings and the shorts she wore to the ultra. Now she’s wearing baggy ripped jeans that sit high on her waist, revealing a sliver of skin where her white top barely hits the waistline of her pants. Her black bra is visible beneath the white fabric and instead of her signature ponytail, her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, face completely clean of makeup.

I can’t speak. She’s stunning.

She sits in the armchair across from me, sinking into the plush cream fabric. I wish she would sit on the couch with me like last time. Q abandons me for Paige and goes over to show her the new toy.

“Look at this whale, Q! Did your new friend Adam bring you a toy?” Q is vibrating with joy and Paige grins with delight. I can’t help but stare, mesmerised by her. “Did he bring you this so he could wriggle his way in the door?”

No. Yes.

Q takes the orca and leaves the room. I watch her trot off and see through the cutout in the wall that she goes to sit in the patch ofsun in the kitchen. Inca used to do that, and the memory makes me a little sad.

“What do you need to talk to me about, Adam?” Paige asks, jolting me out of my thoughts.

I clear my throat. Now that I’m here and she’s sitting in front of me, I think I may have overreacted. I definitely didn’t think this through. When it comes to this woman, I either overthink or underthink everything. There is no in-between.

“The race is tomorrow.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“How are you feeling about it?” I’m stalling because I’ve realized this is a stupid idea. I need to stop listening to Mateo. I should’ve run this by Isabel.

“I’m feeling great.” Her voice carries a note of suspicion.

“Good, good. That’s good to hear.”

She knows I’m stalling. She leans back in the chair and crosses her arms, no longer willing to humour my small talk.

“You know, the polite response would be to ask howI’mfeeling about the race,” I goad.

That gets a raise of her eyebrows. “Oh really? Are we being polite now?”

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