Page 25 of That First Date

“Dammit,” she huffs. “I knew you were a psychopath.”

“How so?”

“Nobodyruns for fun. If you ever catch me running, you better start running too. Because something is either chasing me, or something is on fire.”

“Hmm…” I take another sip of my whiskey. “I bet I can make you fall in love with it. It’s peaceful.”

“There is nothing peaceful about being completely out of breath, soaked in sweat, and wanting to die. To each their own. I mean… if you’re into torture, just say that.”

“I started running after I finished my master’s program in college, and…” I pause. Not sure I am ready to tell her about my biggest failed relationship. This isn’t a real date, it’s a fake one. Fuck, even on a real first date I probably wouldn’t overextend my personal life like this.

“And?”

“I started running as a form of therapy after I graduated.”

“Everyone has their vice.” She offers me a somewhat sympathetic grin.

God, it’s the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. This can’t be the first time I have ever noticed that smile, can it? I shouldn't be finding her this attractive right now, but a part of me is going to run with it for now to help us sell this to Bill when we get together with him.

“What happened that caused you to start running for therapy?” she asks reluctantly.

Thankfully, the waiter shows up with some sliced bread and butter, allowing me some time to think about how to approach this heavy, and very real, question that she just asked.

“The night of my graduation, my girlfriend at the time told me she wasn’t able to make it due to a conflict with her work.”

“What a piece of shit.” She makes a disgusted face. “I would have called out.”

“One would think,” I softly chuckle. “After I left the ceremony, I went to her apartment to wait for her to get off work. It was only going to be another thirty minutes or so. Except when I walked in…” I shake my head. The memories are flooding me.

“You don’t have to tell me, Marc.” She places her hand on top of mine. “You don’t have to tell me any of this. I’m sorry I asked.”

The contact of her hand on top of mine feels like I stuck a knife in an electrical outlet. If I wasn’t sitting down, I would have been jolted backwards. The electricity I just felt with one single touch shot through my body at rapid fire. Unlike anything I’ve ever felt from another person.

She pulls her hand away quickly as if she felt the same thing. Both of our eyes shoot to where our hands just were. The same hand that was just resting on top of mine for a split second is now in her hair, twirling the ponytail around her finger.

I clear my throat, ignoring the weirdness of what that just was. “Needless to say, she was not at work. She was in her living room, naked, on top of her coworker, screaming his name.”

She doesn’t respond, but simply stares at me, her lips slightly parted. I swear I see her eyes start to glisten, but then she blinks them away, shaking herself out of it and looks down before I can confirm.

“Alright.” I let out a laugh to try to get out of this conversation. “Now you tell me your story.”

“I wish I had anything remotely interesting to share,” she says right before she takes a sip of champagne. “I told you I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

“Never?”

“Never.” She shakes her head. “Call it daddy issues, or whatever you want. My mom has been my entire life since my sperm donor walked out on us when I was young. I’ve never seen my mom in a relationship since. She’s the strongest and most independent woman I have ever met. All my life, I have just wanted to be like her.”

How is she going to sell a relationship with me, let alone an engagement, if she’s never even been in one? I didn’t think she actually meant it when she told me this before.

As if she can sense my anguish over the situation, she continues.

“I know that’s the last thing you want to hear when we’re supposed to beina relationship.” Her hand makes contact with mine again. The same energy courses through my body at her touch. This time, neither of us make a move to escape the feeling. “But I will let you know that I have read hundreds of romance novels. It’s part of being friends with Peyton. She will legit force you to pick up her latest favorite read against your will.”

“You know most of those aren’t real life though? They are works of fiction.”

“They might be.” She grins. “But they are packed with all things romance and swoon. So don’t worry, sweet cheeks. We got this.”

“Alright. Alright.” I raise my arms up in a small surrender. “Next topic. Where do you see yourself in the future?”

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