Page 53 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

“You ready?” she asked him, and Jamie’s heart squeezed. Hank barked.

She slid her gaze back to Jamie and shrugged, smiling.

“I guess we’ll see you in a bit.”

Chapter Sixteen

Elliott

Elliott lasted three miles before she quit, and it wasn’t because of the usual reasons, like burning lungs or a muscle cramp.

It was her brain.

Every runner knew the sport was mental as well as physical. More so, even. That was one reason she loved it so much—it was a place she’d found she could stop worrying and stop thinking about anythingbutthe run. She could plug in her earbuds, listen to something with a strong beat, and focus on the pound of her feet across the pavement.

Not today. Instead of thinking about appropriate things like the perfect weather or the date she’d had with Stephen the night before, only one subject occupied her focus.

A tall ex-baseball player in gray sweatpants and a fitted white T-shirt, with mussed, dirty-blond hair, like he’d just run his fingers through it. She always looked for the dimple, because who wouldn’t want to see that man smile? But today was the first time she’d noticed the thick vein descending each bicep, intersecting the crease of his elbow and leading to the most deliciously sculpted forearms she’d ever seen.

Climbing trees did that body good.

She groaned and walked to the nearest curb, taking a seat and dropping her head into her hands.

She hated herself for being so attracted to Jamie. It was half of the reason she’d agreed to go out with Stephen last night—in the hope that spending time with another man might broaden her perspective and show her what else was out there. Stephen had given her an easy out when he’d texted with a??Hey, if you never reconnected with that Jeremy guy, still want to hang sometime???, but she’d wanted to go.

Jamie had been front and center in her brain for so long, she figured maybe she just needed a do-over in the man department. With someone different.

Stephen took her bowling, and she’d had a good time. He was an interesting guy, and their conversation flowed easily. He mostly talked about himself, though, spending a good chunk describing his tattoos in extreme detail, and he seemed uncomfortable if the topic took a turn toward anything related to her illness. She didn’t try to bring it up, but it had been such a big part of her twenties, it was hard to leave it out completely.

As she ran, Hank keeping stride easily beside her, she’d quickly realized her efforts were futile. Because while she could imagine Jamie’s jawline with disturbing accuracy, she couldn’t recall even one of Stephen’s tattoos. Instead of wondering what Stephen thought of their brief kiss goodnight, she wondered if Jamie ever said her name when she wasn’t around.

The telltale burn of impending tears pricked beneath her eyelids, and she rubbed the back of her hand across them.

“Dammit,” she muttered. She scratched Hank on the head and stood, making her way to Jamie’s building.

They arrived at his apartment and she knocked. A few seconds later the door opened to reveal a shirtless Jamie.

He stood there, one thick arm braced against the doorframe, with all that dark-blond hair, expressive hazel eyes, and those stupid hot glasses on his face, and miles upon miles of smooth skin stretched across taut muscles. Oh God, were those freckles on his shoulders?

Her jaw drifted downward and she caught herself, snapping it shut.

“Oh, sorry. Hang on just a sec ...” He released the door and stepped away, catching it again just as it was about to click shut. A white T-shirt hung around his neck, and he threaded his arms through it.

Elliott simultaneously wanted to thank him and weep with disappointment.

Hank nosed his way into the apartment, and she held out the leash.

Jamie took it, seemingly careful not to touch her fingers, and leaned down to unclip the other end from Hank’s collar. “How’d it go?”

“Great. You were right—he’s the perfect partner.”

Jamie grinned and her heart stuttered. “Told you.”

“Thanks for letting me borrow him.”

Hank took a few steps behind Jamie and collapsed onto the carpet, panting happily. “No, thank you,” Jamie said, laughing. “Look at him.”

Elliott smiled. “He’s such a good dog.”

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