As I round the corner and head to the quad, I notice a runner in front of me. I’m not proud to admit this, but I’ve been staring at the ass of that girl for the last couple days, so I know exactly who it is. I run a little faster to catch up with her. While the gymnastics practices have given me anxiety from all those girls ruthlessly flirting with me, I have to admit, Callie has been my saving grace. She’s a breath of fresh air, and damn, she’s pretty. We chitchat a lot, and I always find myself near the event she is at in the gym…so I can move a mat. She intrigues me.
As I catch up, she looks over, and her eyes fill with surprise before she smiles widely at me. I take my AirPod out as she does the same. “Why’re you running?”
“For fitness?” she teases, slowing her pace. “And to eat food. I like food.”
I nod. “Same, but I thought you had conditioning this morning?”
“I slept in,” she admits. “I was up late on the phone with my sister and dad-guy. He was helping me with math.”
“Explain dad-guy,” I say, out of breath.
“He’s my sister’s husband, but I call him my dad since he is absolutely awesome.”
“Your brother-in-law, then.”
She shakes her head. “He needs a better title, which is why I go with dad-guy.”
I smile. It’s nice that she loves him that much to say that, but I wonder where her real dad is. While we joke and talk during practice, I don’t think that gives me access to those details yet. “How much longer you have?”
“About twenty. You?”
“Ten, but I’ll finish with you.”
She gives me a half grin before hooking her thumb behind her. “Maybe we can lose your fan club?”
I don’t look behind me. I don’t even want to know who is back there. “Might have to pick up the pace.”
“I can do that,” she says, taking in a deep breath. “Have you seen Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire?”
I cock my head. What in the hell does that have to do with running or the fan club, as she calls them? “Of course I have.”
She nods, breathing heavy. “They remind me of the part when Viktor Krum was on the beach working out and they followed him around.” She snorts with laughter. “You’re the Bellevue version of Viktor Krum.”
She doesn’t even wait for my reaction; she pops her AirPod back in and takes off, laughing. I shake my head and do the same, running beside her. It’s hard not to take her in as we run. But I know if I do, I’ll end up falling on my face. She’s highly athletic—and fast. I think my favorite thing to watch her do is vault. It’s insane how fast she goes. Coach has nicknamed her “thunderbolt,” and it’s no joke. She’s quick and dynamic. Also, I enjoy watching her ass as she runs. She has a great ass. I know that is wrong of me; I’m supposed to be professional, but it’s really hard when it comes to Callie.
Everyone else, I couldn’t care less, but Callie… I think I have a bit of a crush.
She runs faster than me, and it’s hard to keep up. I force myself to since I don’t want to look like a wuss. As we head out of the quad and around the football field, my lungs burn and my thighs quake. She doesn’t even look winded. When we reach the open field, where a large bull statue sits, she falls onto the grass and rolls to her back. I gasp for breath, my hands on my head as I wait for my heart to slow. I look down to see Callie take a long pull of her water before coughing loudly.
“Man, you made me run faster.”
I laugh. “Me? I was trying to keep up with you!”
She grins, taking in deep breaths. “We should do that more. I like the push, and no one wants to run with me.”
“Because you’re fast. For someone so short, you sure do have some speed.”
“Your one step is four of mine. Stop complaining.”
“Whatever, thunderbolt,” I scoff.
She giggles as she stretches her leg in the air. Her shorts fall back, showing a cheek, so I look away. Unfortunately, my gaze falls to a group of girls who are stretching a hundred yards from us. Very suspect, in my opinion. I lower my cap and push my sunglasses up my nose. I swallow hard and let out a long breath.
I realize I didn’t commit to running with her yet, but before I can, she asks, “What do you have planned today?”
“I’ve got a class this afternoon and then gymnastics practice.”
She clears her throat, coughing a bit. “Same, but I’ve got two. I’ll be late.”
“I’ll have your tape ready.”
Her eyes sparkle as she looks over at me. Her hair is falling in her face, and I want to laugh. She uses like three hair things to hold those massive curls up and out of her face. As I stare at her, I remember I had a question for her.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she says, sitting up and pulling her leg across herself to stretch more. “Wondering when we’ll meet up again for me to smoke ya?”
I chuckle. “I had already run for an hour. You caught me at the tail end and still didn’t smoke me.”
“Okay, so tomorrow? Eight?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m down.” And then I pause. “You mean the morning, right? I have dinner with my family tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” she says, switching legs. “I have a class at ten, so I’ll need to outrun you and take a shower in two hours.”
I have class too, and I’m unsure I’ll make it if I’m running with her. Eh, I’ll worry about that tomorrow. “Same.”
“Cool.”
“Cool,” I say, and then I crouch down, opening my hips. I look over to find her watching me, waiting. “What?”
“What did you want to ask?”
“Oh yeah. Why were you at the autism center?”
“I volunteer there.”
“Oh, sweet. Is that related to what you’re majoring in?”
“Occupational therapy with a minor in business, and I want to open a center like that for kids with autism.”
My lips curve up, impressed. She’s the whole package. “That’s awesome. It’s a cool place.”
“It is. Do you volunteer too? Is that why you were there?”
“I’m gonna start, but when we ran into each other, I was there because my therapist works there.”
“Oh! Awesome! Kayla, right? She’s so damn good. I see her monthly.”
I furrow my brows. “You do?”
“Yeah. What?” she asks, laughing. “You’re looking at me weird.”
“You don’t look like you need a therapist.”
She continues to laugh. “Everyone needs some therapy, in my opinion,” she says, grinning from ear to ear before wiping the back of her hand along her forehead. “I go mainly for sports therapy and to deal with trauma from my childhood.”
Well, that’s a lot of details there. Bet her dad is included in that. “I am considering changing my major to sports therapy to help people who have issues like me.”
Her face is breathtaking. So bright, so beautiful as she gushes, “That’s freaking awesome. You should. You could help so many people.”
I should. Why am I so confident about it all of a sudden? Ignoring that thought, I say, “Yeah, that option didn’t really exist when I was coming up, especially not for men.”