Page 54 of Run
After my confession, we all just stare at each other for a moment, and I think maybe this was a bad idea. But then the woman wraps me up in a hug. Knox seems to finally get his bearings and takes a step toward me. “Are you still running?” he asks.
I shake my head from side to side. “No,” I give a half-truth, because he doesn’t need to know anything else.
The driver gets my attention, and I remember my plans tonight. “Shoot!” Turning toward Knox and his wife, I explain, “I have to go. I have a date. Gah! This is my first date since the accident and I’m a little nervous.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket and start swiping it. “My friend set me up with this guy online and I just … I dunno. I mean, he seems OK, but what if he’s a serial killer or something? Or what if he’s really fat and using someone else’s picture? I can’t exactly make a run for it.”
It was a mistake to let Sophie set up a profile for me on a dating site. Now I’m going to meet some guy she handpicked and has been corresponding with under my name for a few weeks.
Without skipping a beat, the woman steps up to me, her own phone out. “Let me see a pic.” She leans over and takes a photo of the picture I have on my screen. “What’s your number?” Withouthesitation I give it to her, and my phone dings. “That’s me. My name is Lizzie, by the way.” She tells me to text her if the guy is a creeper.
“Good plan,” I say. “But I hate to infringe on your evening.”
“Nonsense,” Lizzie bats away the suggestion. “Seven-fifteen sharp. I don’t hear from you, I call the police and send them this pic. Got it?”
I nod. “Well, here I go.” Turning back toward the car and awkwardly getting back into it, I hear Knox’s voice thanking me for finding him.
“You have no idea how lost I was,” he says.
Oh, I might have some idea.
CHAPTER 19
ARI
Igot here early so I could be seated when my date arrived and miss having to see me waddle in here on my crutches.
I could kill Sophie for convincing me to go on a stupid date in the first place. What was I thinking, letting her talk me into this? She even wrote my damn profile. I told her I had no interest in swiping whatever direction determined whether I thought some guy was hot or not. So, like an asshole, I let my bestie put whatever the hell she wanted into it. I don’t even know what photo she used. But she did say she didn’t mention my “disability.” Ugh, I hate that word.
Running my hands over my hair, I tuck some behind my ear, then make sure my crutches are securely tucked between the high stool and the window. My foot taps against the footrest as Iwait anxiously. I was lucky enough to regain feeling throughout my legs and am working toward full control of them—and I use that control to fidget nervously every second of every freaking day.
Pulling my ChapStick out of my purse, I run it around my lips about fourteen times.
He’s late. He bailed. Hell, I thought about it, too. I should just go. This is stupid.
Male voices behind me get my attention. “Excuse me?”
“Yes, sir, would you like a seat?”
“Actually, I’m supposed to be meeting someone here.”
“Oh, yes. There is a lovely young lady waiting right over there.”
“Cool, thanks.”
Shit! I jam the cap back on my ChapStick and slip it into my pocket, then raise my head to get a look at the man sliding into the high stool across the small table in front of me. He places a motorcycle helmet on the table without even looking up, his head cast down at his phone as he settles in.
“Sorry I’m late. I just got a message from work that I had to respond to and I’m just sending this PDF out right now … OK. Sorry, again.” He snaps his head up and we make eye contact and both freeze.
His mouth falls open and his eyes dart around my face.
Before I can get any words out, he breathes, “Red.”
Those eyes. Those warm, welcoming chocolate brown that I’ve thought about every day since I was ten years old are boring right into mine. The man before me is wearing a tight black T-shirt under a denim long-sleeved button up that’s open, with the sleeves rolled up, exposing big, solid forearms. He’s got a buzz cut and a full beard that’s cut close but covers his face from his sideburns and cheeks to his chin, and down the upper part of his neck. His upper lip is also covered.
He’s older, more mature, more manly. But it’s definitelyhim.
Just to be sure, I reach my hand out …
ETHAN
