Page 18 of Misfortune and Mr. Right

Somehow, I managed not to injure myself.

“Me too,” Olivia says from over my shoulder. Her body is still pressed onto mine, but she’s wriggling to get up. “Don’t worry. We’re fine.”

“You sure?” the dog owner asks.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re good,” I assure him.

Olivia’s pressing down on my back with one hand, moving to separate herself from me. She stands, and I pop up, brushing the dirt from my legs. I push the button on my watch to pause the tracker.

“Okay,” Olivia says. “That’s enough, Alexander.”

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She pops one hand onto her hip. “I will be, once I can resume my normal run without you trying to turn it into a contest.”

“I’m not … I didn’t … I …” I stutter like a fool.

Olivia studies me. “Are you okay?”

Her question is perfunctory, like a child being forced to apologize when she’s not truly sorry. Though, her brow does furrow a little. Maybe she is actually concerned.

I nod, and she’s obviously satisfied with my answer, because she shifts gears immediately.

“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.” Olivia looks at me as if she’s waiting for a protest. “You’re going to tell me which way you’re going to run. Then I’m going to pick a path—a different path. And we’re both going to run. Separately. Okay?”

I nod. I don’t trust myself to try to speak right now.

“I am going that way.” She points in the direction of my route, not waiting for me to claim a direction after all.

Don’t worry, I don’t have a death wish. I pick another option.

“I’ll go this way,” I assure her, pointing back the way we came.

“Have a nice run,” I tell Olivia before I turn to take off.

Olivia starts running away from me.

She turns and shouts, “I could keep going, you know! I wasn’t even tired. Not a bit.”

“I’m sure,” I say.

Olivia gives me a look that rivals the one Rhett gave me when I abandoned him in my apartment less than a half-hour ago. Then she turns and runs away without another word. I hit the button on my Garmin twice and head the opposite direction, back toward my apartment.

The rest of my run is uneventful and calculated. I’m back to following my routine, changing my cadence with the beeping of my watch. I’m rounding the corner of my street when I see Olivia. Again.

She’s coming toward me from the opposite direction. I consider turning around and running anywhere else just so she doesn’t accuse me of following her. I obviously took the opposite path. She must have left the park out the other side and circled back here from that point. But why?

I reduce my pace even though I’m already running at my slowest for my cool down.

I stop in front of The Serendipity, intending to stretch my calves and quads before I go inside to keep my promise to Rhett.

To my surprise, Olivia slows in front of the building as well. Then she comes to a dead stop. I avoid her eyes, resting my heel at the edge of the bottom step and pulling my toes back by leaning my body in.

“Uh, Logan?”

My first name. She never calls me by my first name. I like the sound of it way too much. It’s coming out breathy after her run. She’s sweaty, rosy-cheeked, and stunning. Yes, I looked. I can’t seem to help myself where Olivia’s concerned.

“Yes?”

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