He's here.
Cam.
He doesn't stand out the way he did yesterday. He's one of many athletic men in running shorts. Even one of several handsome, tall, Black men in running shorts.
But he's the only one wearing a soccer jersey.
He's the only man who makes my heart race.
Cam and exercise is a dangerous conversation. He's hot in his suit. All sweaty and sleeveless—
He's—
Fuck.
He spots me immediately. Pauses so I can catch up.
I jog to him. "Are you doing hello today?"
He shakes his head. "How's your hangover?"
"How's yours?"
"I'm already on my way back."
"You're on Greenwich Mean Time. It's afternoon to you."
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah huh." I suck another sip of water from the bottle.
He notices. Studies the way my lips wrap around the spout. Traces the cheesy tourist logo with his eyes.
"Want some?" I offer the bottle to him.
"Thanks." His fingers brush mine as he takes it. He swallows. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "How is your hangover?"
I motion a little.
"You should listen to your sister and take it easy."
"Why does everyone tell me not to drink? No one stops Eve from drinking. She's only a year older than I am."
Eve is Ty's brother's girlfriend. The happy couples are always double dating. And they're often inviting me.
Sure, they try to include me in their festivities, but they're in their happy couple worlds. I'm a total fifth wheel.
Even when it's just the girls, me, my sister, and Eve, the two of them have so much in common. They're both boss bitches with edgy hair, epic style, and a deep love of analyzing lyrics.
They don't enjoy reality TV or soccer or sugary coffee drinks.
Sure, Indie watches soccer with me, but only because she loves me. She barely understands the rules.
"Because you're Indigo's sister," Cam says. "Ty sees you as his kid sister."
"Whereas he sees Eve as—"
"The girl his brother is fucking."
"So it's a guy thing?" I'm the sweet, innocent kid sister. She's… the sexpot? What bullshit.
"Ty wants to protect you."
"Is that why you're here?"
He shrugs. Maybe, maybe not.
But I'm not stupid. I know he's here because Ty asked.
And there goes my hope he's here to see me in my sports bra and shorts again. Whatever. It's kind of sweet Ty wants someone keeping an eye on me. Annoying, but sweet in a Ty kind of way.
And I can't exactly complain about Cam's company. He's so tall and handsome and sleeveless.
What would his arms feel like around me? Strong and sweaty and safe.
No boys, no alcohol, no fun.
No distractions.
But Cam isn't a boy. He's a man. And even if I tell him to get lost, he's a huge distraction. I might as well work with the situation.
If he's here, he's helping me train.
"I'm going to Chelsea Piers and back," I say. "If you can handle it."
"If I can handle it?"
My gaze goes to his shoulders. Bare. I've never seen them bare before. Not in person. They're so strong and broad and in need of my hands. "You are an older man. You may have used up all your stamina."
"I'm older?"
I nod.
"I'm not even thirty."
"Almost thirty."
He chuckles. "Do you think baiting me is going to work?"
Yes. It always does. And I need the challenge. Cam is faster than I am, by fifteen seconds a mile. "Work at what? I'm stating facts. You're older, out of energy. I can run faster."
"You really need to race a man who ran for an hour to win?"
"How do I know you really ran for an hour?" I ask. "You're probably just saying you ran for an hour."
"Okay. If you need the handicap." He smirks challenge accepted and returned. "To Chelsea Piers and back. Loser buys coffee."
"You own a tech company."
"So?"
"I'm a broke college student."
"And I'm ordering the most expensive pour over." His smile widens. "Run fast."
My chest warms. My cheeks flame. I'm not sure if I'm angry or charmed, but I know I'm ready to win. "On three or you need a break first?"
"On three."
"You sure? You already ran so much and you are older."
"And taller."
"Heavier." Neither of us is built like a distance runner. They're tall sometimes—tall people have longer legs—but they're incredibly thin.
He's built like a sprinter, the same way I am.
Of course, broad, muscular men are considered the height of hotness. My muscular frame isn't the body type men covet.
But it doesn't seem to deter Cam. He's not exactly shy about checking me out.
And I do have a great ass. Maybe not as great as Cam's, but that's like saying a sport isn't as great as soccer.
It's not possible to compare.
He motions to the edge of a tile. Adopts race position. "On three."
"On three."
He holds out three fingers.
We count down in unison.
I take off the second I finish one, spring past a dad pushing a stroller, a couple on a morning walk, two friends sipping coffee.
I don't look back until I round a corner.
Cam's running fast but not full speed. Is he tired or conserving energy?
He is faster than I am, but he's used to running in London weather. It's not as hot as yesterday, but the air is still warm and sticky. It's enough to distract even the most seasoned athlete.
I take my lead for half a mile, then I slow to a speed I can maintain. I focus on my form. My breath. The cool breeze rolling off the Hudson.
I'm too slow. He gains on me.
Cam shoots me a told you, then he runs past me.
Fuck. Did he really run for an hour? Where the hell does he get the stamina?
I let him lead until Chelsea Piers. But he's there. Hand on the wall. Waiting.
"Here and back." I struggle through the words.
"I know." His voice is breathy. He's straining too.
It's because of the workout, but it sends my thoughts to the gutter. Beautiful images fill my head.
Cam kissing me.
Wrapping his arms around me.
Pinning me to the wall, sliding my running shorts to my ankles.
Even in my fantasies, we're wearing our sneakers.
I don't even need Alice's warnings. I already eat, breathe, sleep soccer.
"So you…" I uncap my bottle. Suck a sip of water. "You're giving up."
"Taking a break."
"Asshole. You're showing off."
He shrugs. "If I am?"
"I'm buying the most expensive drink on the menu."
"You have the cash for that?"
I flip him off.
He smiles. Waits for me to tap the wall. Then he runs.
Fast.
Faster than he ran here.
I speed until I'm at his pace.
Until I'm gaining on him.
Fuck, he's too fast. But I'm almost there. Two more minutes. I can do that.