Sugar Baby Beautiful(60)

“I’m here, I’m here!” I opened the door but jumped back when I saw Theo dressed in track pants and a sleeveless shirt, exposing his arm muscles.

“You’re late,” he stated sternly.

Stunned, I nodded.

“Let’s go.” He moved aside for me to step out.

“Cleo, Mark, I’m leaving!” I yelled, closing the door and running down the stairs, out into summer.

“Did you stretch?” he stopped to ask me.

“Yeah. Walt yelled at me the first day about it. I won’t ever make that mistake again.” I tried to smile, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

He looked at me oddly but didn’t comment on my failed attempt to be cheerful. “You lightly jogged the first day and yesterday, you ran for half the trail. How are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

“Good. Try to run as much as you can today.” He was already ahead of me. My body screamed in protest, but ignoring my aching muscles, I ran right beside him down the street.

Just like Walt, he didn’t speak to me as he ran. Both of them hovered to make sure I wasn’t slacking. I wasn’t sure if it was the music I put on or the fact I knew he was running slowly on purpose that made me so competitive when I was near him. Whatever the reason, I pushed to get in front of him.

He caught up easily. Again I pushed ahead, and again he was right beside me.

He pulled one of my ear buds out. “You do know you can’t outrun me, right?”

“I wasn’t trying to,” I lied.

“So why do you keep running ahead of me?”

“Because you make me feel awkward.” The moment I said it, I regretted it because it made it seem like I wasn’t over him.

He smiled as we turned the corner.

“Don’t get the wrong idea!” I moved out of the way for another runner. “I mean, the fact that you were just next to me and not talking made me feel awkward. I would feel awkward near anyone.”

“Do you ramble for anyone too?” Urgh, that smug look on his face.

“Don’t think you’re special. I’m over—”

“I think I might love you.”

I stopped in my tracks.

“What did you just say?” I whispered.

“I said I think I might love you.”

My mouth dropped open. “You can’t just say something like that completely out of the blue and keep running.”

“Why? My feelings have no bearing on you, remember?” he replied, jogging in place. I was dreaming… wait, wouldn’t it be a nightmare? “But apparently you aren’t completely over me, or else you would have shot me down right now instead of trying to overthink things. Now keep moving. Your legs will get stiff.”

Without another word, I went on. But I couldn’t get those words out of my head. I think I might love you. Just like that he’d said it. Even with an ‘I think I might’ before those two words, shouldn’t there be some buildup to it? Some big dramatic moment? Then again, this wasn’t a movie. And he must have said it to get a reaction out of me. If he had, it was working.

What was worse was how I felt happy. After this morning… after the last couple of mornings, I was sure I wasn’t meant to be with anyone. But I wanted to be. I could accept that much now. I wanted to get myself together on my own, and maybe I wouldn’t be that broken girl anymore.

“Theo,” I said, not looking at him. “After the gala ask me out again.”

“And why should I do that?”

“Because you think you might love me.” I grinned. “And I’ll be one step closer to being a better me.” I took off.

“Felicity!” He chased after me, and I laughed.

I want to be better.



1:04 p.m.

“Again, Felicity. I need you to get up higher. Greg, you need to speed up. You were half a second late. Christina, you look lost, which is odd because you’re doing fine. Dwight, lift Melrose higher on the turn.” Walt shouted instructions as we danced on stage.

I was dripping sweat, and my feet and thighs burned but in a good way. I remembered this feeling, and I hadn’t even realized I had missed it so much. Some things came naturally, like twirling, spins, and lifts, but the jumping—my body felt so much heavier than I remembered from when I was a teenager.

“Five minutes, guys. Catch your breath, then we run on from the top,” Walt yelled, moving over to the group of dancers.

I wanted to fall to the ground and just stay there. However, the only choice I had was to stretch, staring out at the empty seats in the audience. One, because the other dancers didn’t like me. They didn’t say it, but they kept their distance. I could live with that. Two, because if I fell to the floor, there was no way I could get back up. Walt had gone through everything on the first day. Seeing all the seats had made me sick and nervous. I didn’t know if I could do this.