The Plan (Off-Limits Romance, #4)(11)

As I run, I think about the day ahead. I’ll get home, do my arm weights, shower, and unpack some more; the apartment is gorgeous, and furnished, but I still want to make it feel like mine. My car—a black, 2009 Accord that I adore—should be dropped off by the courier around 11. After that, I’ll run out to the nursery to get some mums for my mini porch. Around lunch, Kat’s going to stop by with food from The Chicken Salad Place. After that, I’m supposed to go to the Fate Pediatric Clinic for a few hours to look over the computer system and get my tablet, plus pow-wow with the other two doctors.

After my few hours at work, I’ll head over to Grandma Ellis’s house for an early dinner then come home to watch a little light TV, followed by an early bedtime. My first full day at work will be tomorrow.

I’m hanging a right onto the pebble path that cuts through the old cemetery when a low-hanging branch slaps me in the forehead. “Ow!”

As I cry out, something moves in the trees ahead of me.

Gabe.

My stomach sinks as he looks over his shoulder, his eyes rounding as he realizes I’m me. He turns away, and he picks up his pace. Not a little, either. That asshole runs like sharing air with me could kill him.

I watch his gorgeous body move and feel gripped by my fury. That he hates my presence so much… I cup my mouth. “I’ll catch you!”

I hear a distant chuckle. “Doubt it.”

At first I think I’m hearing things, but then he glances back at me. I see the corner of his mouth curve, realize Gabe has slowed his pace. He’s egging me on. Daring me.

It’s stupid. Absurd. Childish.

But suddenly all I can think of is the sound of that expensive running shirt he’s got on ripping in my fingers. Fucking Gabe, that motherfucker…

Spurred by my adrenaline, I tear off after him.

I chase my ex past half a dozen towering tombstones, toward a row of crypts, following the pebble path down toward the cliffs that overlook the lake. Every time I start to close in, Gabe runs harder, faster. I lengthen my strides and push my body, running like it’s life or death. As the path dips downhill, he veers off into a copse of pines. I know it’s crazy, but I follow.

Gabe is tall—6’1—and in these thick trees, his size must work against him. I’m nipping his heels.

I can hear his rhythmic breathing now, see sunlight glint off his black curls. I can see his tanned skin, the way his t-shirt sticks to the thick ridges of muscle along his back. I think I even smell him. I imagine his face as I catch his shirt and rip…

I’m lunging for him when he veers right, into a swatch of forest so thick, I’m not sure where he thinks he’s going. Still, I plow in after him. Leaves and branches slap me as I follow down a not-trail through the tightly packed trees. I can see the forest tremble as he surges forward—and then I lose him. I duck my head and push past scraping branches. Wind caresses my cheeks, rattles through the leaves.

Finally I spot him: shirtless in the swaying pines, just a few steps from the cliffs’ edge.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you want?” He looks—and sounds—strange. Almost angry.

“I got you,” I pant.

“Good for you.” He waves, a clear dismissal.

Embarrassment heats up my cheeks, at being sent away—even as I want to slap myself for calling out to him to start with.

Something ripples through his features. Exhaustion. As if he’s beyond tired of being bothered by me. “What can I help you with, Marley?”

My eyes peruse his chest, and it’s amazing. Flawless. Cut. “I don’t need any help. You dared me to chase you, so…”

“You win.” His blue eyes study me, his thick brows tugging together as his features shift into an expression I can’t read.

“Are you going swimming?” I ask.

“Is there some reason you care?”

His derisive tone makes my chest tighten. “Is there a reason that you have to be an asshole?”

He lifts a brow.

“Don’t give me that crap. I’m just trying to be nice to you.”

His face tightens. “Tell me, Marley, why we need to interact at all.”

“You just egged me on to chase you. Pick one, Gabe!”

He nods. “Go, then. I pick go.”

“Or what?” I can’t resist. “You’ll run?”

Gabe’s eyes harden. I can feel his words before they leave his mouth. “That’s your job, don’t you think?”

“If your job is to be the stonewall, sure, I’ll be the runner. Someone has to do something! We can’t all just zone out when things get hard.”

His gaze rolls down me, then back up—a cool assessment. “Why don’t you get moving, Marley?”

“I don’t want to do this with you. It’s been years, and—”

“Don’t then.”

I swallow, horrified to find my eyes are watering. I can’t look at him another second, so I whirl around and go.

A moment later, I hear a disturbance in the brush, so loud I turn around—and find Gabe gone.

I walk back toward where he was standing. On a whim, I part the limbs and leaves and look down at the lake. I see the moment that he hits the water. I guess he dove off the cliffs, because he goes in neatly, head first: there one second, gone the next.