Page 8 of My First Time Fling

“A few?” I repeated, my voice going up half an octave. I took it down before speaking again. “That’s impressive.”

“Eh, it was a weird time in my life.” Hot Guy took another sip of his beer and I tried not to make the fact that I was staring at his lips too obvious. They were pink and full, and I couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like on mine.

“Well if you’ve run multiple marathons, maybe you can convince Jesse that he needs to run this one in July,” Brooklyn put in from over my shoulder. He gave me an innocent smile when I turned to glare at him.

“You’re running one in July? Where?” Hot Guy asked.

“Here,” I said with a sigh. “Well, just outside of Savannah actually, for most of it. Which is absurd—who the hell thought that it made sense to have a marathon here in the middle of summer? But it doesn’t matter, because I’m not actually going to run it.”

For the first time, I regretted saying that. It might have been nice for Hot Guy to think I was some kind of athlete myself. But who was I kidding? He could probably tell just from looking at me that I wasn’t.

“Why not?” Hot Guy asked. He looked genuinely interested, which was even stranger.

“Um, it’s kind of embarrassing.” I flushed. I didn’t really want to tell him about Tanner and I wasn’t sure how else to explain that I’d signed up for a marathon against my better judgment.

“Try me,” Hot Guy said. “I bet I’ve got more embarrassing stories than you. I’m Mark, by the way.”

He stuck his hand out over the bar and I took it out of instinct. A tingle went through me when our skin met, and my eyes jumped up to his. It felt electric, and for an instant, I could have sworn he felt it too.

“Jesse,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “And, well, okay, I guess. But prepare yourself for something truly pathetic.”

And prepare yourself to find out that I am capital G gay, I added mentally. If Mark was going to turn out to be a homophobe, I’d rather find out sooner than later. Not that it would necessarilystopme from thinking he was cute, but I could at least attempt to have some self-respect.

Mark took a long drink of his beer, then slapped the bar twice. “I’m ready. Lay it on me.”

I snorted. “Basically, my boyfriend wanted to do a marathon, and I thought that if I signed up with him, it would bring us closer. I’d never have done it otherwise. You can probably tell I’m not exactly Mr. Athletic. But yeah, I signed up, and then he dumped me, and now, to top it all off, he’s planning on running it with the guy he was cheating on me with. So, yeah. Not exactly something I feel the need to subject myself to.”

“Wow,” Mark said.

“I told you it was humiliating,” I said ruefully. “On several levels.”

“That’s not humiliating. That’s infuriating,” he replied. “I can’t believe he did that to you. What an asshole.”

“Well…yeah.” I didn’t know what to say. I agreed, obviously. But I hadn’t expected Mark to react that strongly to my story, or to me. It was kind of flattering. “I don’t know what I was thinking, dating him. I probably should have seen him for who he really was ages ago.”

“Eh, love makes us do stupid things,” Mark said.

“Like signing up for marathons?”

“Yeah, I guess that counts, too.” Mark cocked his head to the side. “So you’re dead set against running it, huh?”

“I mean, yeah?” Why did I feel like I was letting him down? I’d just met the guy. I didn’t owe him anything. It was silly to try to impress someone who’d never be interested in me anyway. And yet, I still felt this sudden urge to change my mind and tell him I would run it after all. “Why?”

The corner of his mouth crooked up into a smile, just revealing a flash of white teeth, and my breath caught. “I was going to say I’d run it with you, if you wanted a training partner or something. But if you really don’t want to do it…”

“What?” I shook my head, not sure I’d heard him correctly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brooklyn choke on the ice in his glass. “You want to run the marathon with me? Are you even registered?”

“Well, no.” Mark made a face. “I’d have to figure that out. But if there’s still space, I could sign up.”

“But why? No offense, but you don’t even know me. Why would you voluntarily sign yourself up for that kind of torture? And with a perfect stranger, at that?”

“You forget, I’ve run a few before.” Mark smiled. “They’re not that bad. I kind of like them, actually. And as for why, well, I’m new in town, and I don’t really have anything else to do, and training for a race takes up some time, so I just figured…” He trailed off and looked down at his beer, then back up at me. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. It was a dumb idea.”

“No, it’s not,” I protested. Because despite knowing him for all of five minutes, I apparently felt a need to convince him of that. What was wrong with me? This guy could have walked into any other bar tonight, and we’d never have met, and I would have been perfectly fine. But here I was, feeling like I would rend my garments and gnash my teeth if I made him unhappy. “Really. It was sweet, and I do appreciate it, but—”

I stopped short, hearing my words.Sweet?What was I thinking? That was not a thing you said to a stranger. I knew I was awkward, but usually I wasn’tthisbad. Maybe Mark’s muscles were frying a circuit in my brain or something.

“I mean, not sweet,” I corrected myself. “Nice. It was nice of you to offer. I’m just not sure it would be any fun for you. I’ve never run more than three miles in my life, and that was on a treadmill in college when I had a crush on a guy who worked at the gym. Needless to say, that was a while ago. I don’t really think you’d enjoy running with me.”

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