A Novella MisTaken(10)

He smiled, and she smiled back. Oh, God, were they going to stand here staring goofily at each other all night? Jay knew she wasn’t great with awkward silences. She was likely to bring up topics guaranteed to get people talking, which usually meant things that got them arguing, and before long they were back to silence again, only of a less-friendly variety.

Luckily, it was Noah who broke it, though he was staring at his feet.

“It was really nice talking to you last night. I thought, maybe since you don’t work tomorrow, we could take a walk and talk some more?” He glanced up hopefully, which was adorable since she was the one hoping he wanted to spend time with her, and not just demand recompense for stolen caramels.

Instead of answering, she fell into step beside him.

“Indigo Girls, huh? I haven’t listened to them much, but I dig their lyrics. What’s that song, ‘Closer to Fine?’”

Jay nodded at him. She loved that song.

“I have that on a playlist of mine for work.”

“What is it that you do, again?” She still thought it was a little weird he hadn’t answered that one the other night.

“Nothing exciting. Hey, I should let you know that I have no idea where we’re going. I got completely lost running today and had to take the Charlie home.”

“Wait—you run? I run! How did we not talk about this before?” She stopped dead for a second and assessed him again. So that lean body was due to running. Man, he could literally not be any more perfect. She was becoming quite taken with her new neighbor.

They resumed their leisurely pace, not heading anywhere in particular. His hand found hers and clasped it. Her heart started pounding furiously. He was warm, and his grip belied his strength. She hoped desperately she would not grow clammy and gross him out. In the Boston humidity, though, it seemed likely.

“I started running a few years ago. It got addictive pretty fast. How about you?” He resumed their conversation as if the entire world hadn’t just shifted on its axis at their touch.

Well, she wasn’t going to be weird if he wasn’t.

“I ran track in high school and college and just never got out of the habit, I guess. I don’t even know what I’d do without running anymore. It’s more like meditation than exercise at this point.”

“I know the feeling. Were you at—were you at the marathon?” He looked distant for a moment, and she wondered where his mind had taken him.

“I was home grading papers, which I can never be more grateful for. At the time, I was horridly upset about missing out. Were you there?”

“I finished twenty minutes before. I was home again. I don’t really want to talk about it, though.” No Bostonian really did, so she let that one go.

“Also, it keeps me on a decent schedule. I can’t stay up to watch one more episode or read one more chapter if I’m going to get six miles in before work.” He may have been upset about the race, as they all were deep down, but he also had impeccable manners on top of it. That was awesome. Except he didn’t like mornings—they were her favorite.

“Now that feeling I don’t know. I am not a morning person.” No. She knew something was wrong.

What the hell kind of job did he have? Who got to just not be a morning person if they didn’t want to?

She thought about pursuing the occupation mystery again, but their conversation was going so nicely, she decided to stay on course. “I’m more of a night owl on summer break. But there’s just something special about getting up before the sun and seeing it join you slowly during your run. There’s hardly anybody out, and the city has a whole different feel to it.”

“Hardly anybody out? Now you’re talking.” He grinned at her and squeezed her hand a little. Her heart squeezed a little in response. “Maybe I need to run before bed instead of after I wake up.”

“Not much of a people person, huh?” They took a left turn down Massachusetts Avenue.

“Nah,” he replied, but didn’t elaborate. It was funny, almost, how comfortable it was to talk to someone who really didn’t say all that much.

“So what kind of music do you listen to while you’re running?” She knew it. She was getting clammy. Shit! If she didn’t wipe her palms on her jeans soon, he’d notice. But if she pulled her hand out of his, he would think she didn’t want to hold hands and she really wanted to hold hands.

Oh, thank God. They were walking past a ramen house. She yanked her hand away and opened the door. He looked surprised, but followed her in.

“I’m starving, do you mind?” She really was. The caramel crackers hadn’t been much of a dinner. They slid into a booth and checked out the laminated menus.