Page 12 of Runaway
“No problem.”
He said it casually, so easily that it broke some of the reservations I felt over even talking to him. Would it change our silent dance if we spoke to each other?
Actually, why didn't we talk more?
“You were gone for a long time today,” I said, grabbing the easiest conversation string I could think of. To my surprise, when I tugged it, he didn't unravel.
“Yeah.” He matched my stride now. We were perfectly even, our legs thudding the ground in simple synchronization that I enjoyed. “A date.”
My brow lifted when I turned to him. “Oh?”
He shrugged again. “Didn't go well.”
“No?”
“Her name was Stephanie. She wanted to go on a hike together, so we did.”
“Sounds like a great date.”
“I thought so too.”
Silence fell while I waited for him to elaborate. The dark trees seemed to reach for us, the world obscured in the shadows. My pace increased ever-so-slightly. Even with Mark at my side, maybe that tiny cabin was a better place to be right now.
“What is it with women saying one thing and meaning another?” The words burst out of him all at once. If we hadn't been running, I would have been shocked. The movement kept me from reacting strongly, however. I took it in stride, like I usually did with Mark.
“What do you mean?”
“Stephanie said she loved to hike. We messaged for a few days, she picked the place, and we met there. Then we started hiking and she complained the whole time. Her shoes hurt. She got bored on the trail. She was tired by the end. The leaves smelled funny.”
“How far did you go?”
“Less than two miles.”
“Oh.”
He shook his head, clearly agitated now. But he seemed to warm up to his words and they flowed as if they'd been pent up for too long.
“She messaged me about her love of hiking. In fact, it was the first thing she said, but she clearly hated it when we started. By the time we finished, and I even cut it short by a mile, she was miserable. Apparently, she doesn't like being sweaty.”
“So when she said she loved to hike, she really meant she loved the idea of hiking?”
“Exactly!”
A little chuckle peeped out of me. What a hilarious side of him that I'd never imagined before. This frustrated, trying-to-date-but-hates-it side. He'd inadvertently started to run faster as he told his story, so I pushed my pace to keep up with him. The burn in my chest felt oddly good, even if I wanted to collapse. Pride kept me going.
“Why couldn't she just be honest?” Agitated breath puffed in front of him. “If she doesn't like to hike, that's fine. I don't need her to like everything that I do. But can't she just be honest about that?”
“How long have you been talking to her?”
“A few days. Since you arrived.”
“Maybe she's insecure.”
“About what?”
I shrugged this time. “I don't know. Lots of people are afraid of not being liked, so they mimic the other person.” My breath was more strained, but he didn't seem to notice. “Eventually, it falls apart. She did you a favor. Now you know it's not a good fit because she doesn't even know herself.”
His shoulders settled a little bit then, even though his brow had wrinkled. He seemed to think that over for a few minutes before he mumbled, “Probably.”
