Page 3 of The Run Back Home

Jace shakes his head. "I got nothin'."

I smile again, switching legs. "Like Lenora," I answer, leaning to grab the toe of my sneaker.

"Oh, shit." Jace sits back against the slide again, crossing his arms over his chest. "So it is, then."

I nod.

"Lenora," he repeats like he's testing it on his tongue. The sound of my full name hits me unexpectedly. "Is that a flower or something?"

"I don't think so," I half-shrug, pulling my foot in to sit cross-legged. "But no one calls me that anyway."

"It's always Nora?"

I lift one shoulder. "Always Nora."

Jace nods slowly before allowing his eyes to wander the park. I take the moment to finally study him up close—to study him at all.

The first thing I notice is the natural curve of his arms. Biceps that bulge as they sit stretched against his chest—already settled in a way most guys my age haven't grown into quite yet. His shorts sink lower on his thighs, revealing more muscle there peeking out from underneath the mesh.

It's clear that he's an athlete, although I know more about hockey than baseball thanks to my brothers. But he seems quieter than I expected from what I've heard about him.

"Do you run here a lot?" he asks, finding me again.

My eyes dart away just as I spot a flicker of silver poking out from underneath the collar of his tank top. I swallow. "Yeah, most nights."

He tips his chin up.

Inhaling a deep breath, I settle my weight back on my hands. "I'd ask you if you lie on this slide a lot, but…"

He chuckles.

"I already know the answer."

Jace uncrosses his arms and sets the baseball beside him.

"Yeah, no," he says. "I actually didn't even know this was here. I sort of stumbled into it wandering around."

"You saw the playground and thought Yeah, I could go for a good brush burn right now." I nod toward the slide, and his eyes narrow playfully.

"No," he drags out. "I just needed to get out of my house. I started walking and ended up here. It was probably the field."

He tips his chin to the rec league baseball field off in the distance—the one my sister Bridget played on all through elementary school.

Hard bleachers. Great snack stand.

"Muscle memory, maybe."

My eyes flick back and forth between the sand I can barely see from the ground and his current seat. "Didn't make it that far?"

"I guess not."

"Why'd you need to get out?" I blurt, then immediately rush to fix it. "Sorry… you don't have to answer that. It's just… that's why I run, I think. I mean, I like it, but… leaving my house is kind of a bonus."

"Are your parents also getting a divorce?"

I freeze completely. "Oh, no, I—" I stop myself before rambling on about how my parents are quite the opposite—nauseatingly in love.

Thankfully, Jace jumps back in.