"You run every morning." He smiled as he said the words and there was something familiar about him that I couldn't quite pinpoint.
"Yes." It was a sort-of answer to his sort-of question.
"You should take a break. A day off every now and then. I see you every morning and wonder why you aren't ever tired."
I tilted my head to the side, squinting my eyes at him. "If you see me every morning, that means you run every morning. Perhaps you should take your own advice." I pushed off and made it past him when his hand grabbed my arm.
"I'm sorry," I heard him say as I wrenched my arm from his grasp. I turned on him and his hands were up as if he were surrendering. "I wasn't trying to be an asshole." He took a step toward me and I took one back. "What's your name?"
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Well, my name's Ryan. I just thought, since we both run on this beach every morning, maybe you'd like a running partner."
"I run alone."
"I noticed." He just stood there, staring at me, waiting for me to say something else.
"I don't need a running partner."
"Everyone runs better when they do it with someone. You need a partner to push you, take you out of your zone. You'd get better results."
I put my hands on my hips, letting my annoyance take over. "I don't run for results. I run to clear my mind, to find clarity, to let my brain breathe for a minute."
"Well, we could still run together. I like to run with a partner better, and you're the only one I've seen who I think could keep up with my pace and be reliable."
"You've been scouting me?"
He chuckled. "I suppose. Come on. It's just running."
"I'm just going to continue to run on this beach. I can't control what you do." I turned and continued to run down the beach, and only a small smile came across my face when Ryan took up pace next to me.
We ran like that, side-by-side, for another mile or so, and then I sharply turned around, heading back the way I came. I heard him laughing, but after a few moments, he was at my side again.
When I made it back to the path I normally took to get from my apartment to the beach, I stopped and placed my hands on my knees, taking in deep, ragged, breaths. Perhaps Ryan was right, running with him had pushed me.
"Can I run with you tomorrow? Same time, same place?"
His words caught me off guard, echoing the same words Sam and I had always said about our coffee shop.
"Are you all right?" he asked, noticing the shocked look on my face.
"Yeah, I mean, yes. I'm fine." I shook my head, trying to rid my brain of thoughts of Sam. I straightened my shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "I run every morning at the same time. I can't control when and where you run."
He chuckled, and again something familiar yelled at me from the very back of my mind. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning then." With that, he turned and ran back the way we'd come.
"Hey," I yelled after a few moments. He turned and continued jogging backward, his smile still plastered across his face. "My name's Lena."
He gave me a small salute and then turned back around, disappearing along the horizon.
Chapter Four
For a week, every morning, Ryan met me where the path met the sand and we ran. For the first two days, he didn't say a word to me, just followed my lead, running along next to me. I could tell every once in a while he picked up his speed, causing me to run a little faster to keep up. When I was ready to go back, I'd just turn around and he'd follow suit. No questions, no conversation, just running.
On the third day, when I came upon him, he was on the phone. I awkwardly tried not to listen to his conversation, seeing as how I didn't even really know him, so I started running without him.
A few minutes later, he caught up with me, out of breath from sprinting.
"Sorry about that," he rasped as he came to run beside me. "That was my sister. She's the baby in the family, so when she calls, I answer. Lord knows what kind of trouble she can get herself into."
I didn't turn to look at him, but I did answer. "Is everything okay?" I don't know why I asked; it didn't matter to me one way or another. Except, it kind of did. I didn't know him, but I sort of cared if something bad had happened to someone in his family. I could see him from the corner of my eye as he turned to me with that brilliant smile again.
"She's fine. Just chatty."
With that, we picked up our quiet running routine. We ran and ran. I almost forgot he was there, that is, until all of a sudden I heard him swear and then the unmistakable sound of someone's face slamming into sand.
I stopped and turned to see him, sure enough, face planted in the sand.
"Oh, my God, are you all right?" I ran back to him as he started to pull himself from the sand.
"Yeah," he groaned, sand falling from his mouth as he spat it out. The sand was stuck to the entire top half of his body, getting plastered to him from the sweat he'd built up from the run. He looked like a legitimate sand monster and I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up in my throat.
And then I was laughing.
And laughing.
Laughing so loud and so hard I had to sit down, holding my belly.
Laughing until there were tears running down my face.
Laughing for so long I must have looked crazy.
Laughing until it became apparent to me that I was no longer laughing at Ryan and his sand covered body, but laughing as a release, laughing at what had become of my life, where I'd ended up.
"I'm sorry," I said through hiccups as I started to come down from my hysterics.
"You're a little wacko," Ryan said, not hurtfully.
I turned my head to look at him and noticed he'd taken a seat on the sand right next to me. Most of the sand was wiped from his face, except for the granules stuck in his bushy eyebrows. This was the first time I'd allowed myself to really look at him. Sand aside, he was an attractive man. Dark eyes, dark hair, strong jawline. I also noticed, even though he'd run without a shirt every day, that he had a magnificent body. In a normal circumstance, a woman would look at his chest and it would cause all kinds of fluttering to happen. I would take in his muscled body and find myself attracted to him. Any hot-blooded, straight woman would.
But I didn't and I was more than okay with that.
"That's the first time I've laughed in months. Like, really, honest-to-goodness laughter."
"If I'd known I just had to eat some sand to break you open, I would have done it sooner."
I thought about his words for a moment. "Well, I don't think it would have worked before now. It's time, I think."
"For?"
I shrugged. "Time to pick myself up and dust myself off."
"You and me both," he said, laughing.
"Maybe you more than me," I said, smiling.
"Just because I can't see your sand, doesn't mean it's any less important than mine."
His poignant words washed over me and I embraced the friendship I had built with him, even without speaking much.
"Feel like getting a smoothie? There's a place right off the beach a few hundred yards up. I usually go there after I run. Get some protein in my system."
I looked over at him with a smile that I hoped was friendly. "I didn't bring my wallet with me."
"Tell you what, your first smoothie is on me." He stood up and started brushing the sand off his body, even though it was a futile effort. Then he held both his hands out to me. I looked up at him before I placed my hands in his, then he hoisted me up so fast I almost lost my balance.
When he let go of my hands, I couldn't help but notice the lack of electricity he left me with. I didn't feel any of the sparks just by touching him that I had with Preston. He didn't light me up, my heart was still beating at its normal pace, and I was left breathing evenly. It was then I realized I might not ever feel the butterflies in my stomach again, might not ever feel hands on me that branded me with their heat. And if I thought I'd been depressed over the last month or so, I was sorely mistaken. A new wave of darkness washed over me with these thoughts and I had to hold back the tears.
But I shook it off and turned back to Ryan. "A smoothie sounds great."
I ordered some raspberry concoction that probably undid all the calories I'd worked off on my run, but it tasted fan-fucking-tastic. Ryan was more responsible and had gotten a spinach, kale, coconut smoothie with a protein powder boost. Watching them pour it into his cup had made me gag. He smiled at me, though, and held up his Styrofoam cup for me to tap mine against.
"To falling in the sand," he said, his eyes twinkling with a smile on his face.
"To getting back up after you've fallen," I responded, thumping my cup against his. Ryan took a deep suck off his straw and I watched the green sludge make its way up and into his mouth, and I couldn't help the grimace that stretched over my face. "Does it taste as terrible as it looks?"