Run to Love (Triple R Book 1) (11 page)

“I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was being truthful. I like Kanyon, a lot. And damn, let’s just say I don’t think I’ve ever been Depp’d and multiple times, like he did.” She smirked. “Kind of glad I knew you were passed out so you wouldn’t hear us.”

“Ewwww! All right, you should get to work before you have to fire yourself.”

And you’re making me jealous again.

By the time she’d finished her shower, I was dressed in my biking gear and headed out the door. I rode the trail around Zorinsky Lake slowly. Biking and a hangover didn’t seem like the best combo after I was on the bike. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I waited until there was a safe place to hop off and take a short break. I lay on the soft dewy grass. The blazing sun reminded me of my lingering headache. I shaded my face with my bike helmet.

Jace:
How are you this AM? I have your car, in one piece. I’ll be over around 11, if that works.

Prez:
I’m good. On bike ride, 11 is fine. I’ll drive you back to Upstream to get your car.

Jace:
I walked to Upstream and brought it home this morning. See you soon.

Let’s see what Jude is doing…

I shaded my eyes from the sun to pull up his number. My pulse quickened, and I closed my eyes to make a concentrated effort to keep from hyperventilating.

The line clicked over to voice mail, Jude’s calming deep voice greeting my ears. I cleared my throat while his sexy voice kept rattling around in my head.

“Um … yeah, hi, Jude. This is Presley, but you probably already knew that from Caller ID. I want to apologize for how I acted last night. I’m sorry. I was short with you and I regret a lot of my behavior, probably some that I can’t even remember. Anyway, have a good weekend. I’ll see you on Monday. Bye.”

That wasn’t horrible. Not sure it was enough, but I’d wait to find out.

My phone rang in my hand. Rahl? Who is…?

Reality slapped me. What a total freaking bitch I was last night! Jude had watched me flirt shamelessly with another guy. How immature! Rahl was nice—and nice to look at—but there were no warm fuzzies—
or scorching heat
—like with Jude.

Why is being an adult so complicated?

It was better to get the conversation over with, so I answered. “Hello, Rahl.”

“Good morning, Presley. Didn’t know if you’d be among the living today.”

I groaned. “Yeah, I was feeling pretty good last night. My hangover cure did its job and I’m out for a bike ride, just taking a break to enjoy the beautiful morning.”

“McDonald’s?” he asked, trying to learn my hangover cure, which was sweet but kind of creepy, too.

Is he sweet or is he creepy?

“Homemade fried egg sandwich and java.”

“That probably did the trick. Glad you’re feeling okay. Say, I’d like to take you out this week. You interested?”

Definitely sweet.

Now, this was my dilemma … Rahl was a nice guy and definitely not bad to look at—dishwater blond hair, muscular build, soft brown eyes. And he came right out and told me he was interested in me. Not that I remembered exactly what he said due to my inebriated state, but I vaguely recalled something about watching me dance and liking my moves. He was sweet in a pound-his-chest-and-grunt, “me-man, you-woman,” kind of way.

Jude was a nice guy and awesome to look at everywhere. I’d learned he was interested, although it was still hard to believe he could actually be interested in me.
If
Jude asked me out, I could possibly have two dates. That was so not like me.

I pounded my head with my helmet as if that would help make my decision easier. It only brought back my hangover headache.

I sat up straight and released the words in a flurry. “Okay. I’ll meet you for drinks. After work on Tuesday, say, six p.m.?”

Even if Rahl wasn’t the one who would curl my toes, I wanted to make friends and it was good for me to get outside of my comfort zone when it came to men. Just talking with one was a stretch. Agreeing to meet for a drink was like a hop, skip, and gallop all in one.

“Sounds good. Brix?”

“Great.” I smiled and fell back to the grass.

“Have a good rest of your weekend. See you then, Presley.”

“You, too. See you later, Rahl.”

After disconnecting the call, something that wasn’t quite regret but felt adjacent to regret hit me. My heartbeat revved like someone had stepped on my accelerator while my clutch was depressed. My blood roared like oil through my veins, and my stomach clenched like an engine sputtering to respond while reality spun out through my brain.

I didn’t know if Jude and Rahl were friends, but they worked together. Would they talk? Do guys do that? Do they care who goes out with who and when?

In actuality, I hoped that Jude did care.

When I returned from the bike ride, I found a little morning energy, and after showering and making myself relatively presentable, I tackled my normal weekend routine. Willow was an incredible classically trained chef. But I was better at cleaning, and she hated domestic warrior duties. So we made a pact. She cooked something delicious, but relatively healthy, at least twice a week, and I cleaned once a week. Not sure what we’d do if either of us moved out. I imagined I might die from boxed-meal nutritional deficiency, and she’d be a six-inch-path-to-the-bathroom hoarding slob.

My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.

Jude:
In a long meeting at Triple R. Will talk to you later. Sorry.

I decided to read until Jace arrived. Lying on the couch, I fell asleep quickly from the lack of truly refreshing sleep last night. The doorbell rang, and I jolted upright. Yawning like I hadn’t slept in days, I reached the door and checked the peephole. Jace smiled on the other side.

I opened. “Hello.” My gravelly voice chafed my ears. I cleared my throat.

“Hi. How are you doing, Miss Bradenhurst?”

“I’m tired.”

“Well, I’d imagine. You were pretending to be a
Dancing with the Stars
contestant last night.” She took a seat in the chair at the end of the sofa.

“Was I? I can’t remember all of it.”

“What do you remember?”

“I remember being weird around Jude.”

Jace threw her head back laughing. “Well, you remember one of the more interesting parts of the night. Presley, I could tell you’re interested in him and that boy is into you, too. Why the attitude?”

“‘Cause in the locker room I overheard Emerson saying she had a date with him. She was there. Mostly, I can’t believe a guy that hot could actually be interested in—”

“You?” Jace scowled at me. “I know Willow tries to cram down your throat how incredible you are, thinking she can convince you to think it yourself, but I’m not going to do that because obviously that method doesn’t work.”

My eyebrows furrowed at her semi-mean but not-entirely-untrue words.

She continued with a small smirk. “Do you have faults? Sure! Prez, we all do. I’m a workaholic, my boobs are two different cup sizes, and I’m a freak when it comes to having clean everything—ears, car, workspace, and home. It’s a certifiable and untreated disease.”

“You are not diseased.”

Jace huffed. “You know what I mean. Presley, we try to minimize the negative things, not faking anything but emphasizing our better side. Our strengths, otherwise known as ‘our best side’, are what attract someone. We do a damn good job of pushing people away by acknowledging the weaknesses that speak so little about us instead of accentuating our strengths that speak volumes.”

“Strengths?” I searched my mind for mine and the fact that I couldn’t come up with one was depressing. Surely I had at least one.

“Yes. So what are you good at, Prez?”

“I don’t know. Art?”

“And?”

Her insistence made my breathing irregular. I didn’t like to discuss me.

“I sell cars better than most of the staff.”

“I’d say you sell them better than
all
of the staff, considering you’re the top salesperson for April. And you love your friends like family. And you take care of animals with such heart.”

“Okay.” I held up a hand. “So I have some strengths. The bigger problem is I have a lot of baggage for someone to contend with, too.”

“Whatever you think that baggage is, honey, it won’t matter to the right person. He or she will understand and accept everything about you. Maybe you don’t know everything about Jude, but if you see the strengths in him to make you want to know more, then I say you should go for it. If all you can see is weaknesses then you should let him go. The right girl will see his best side.”

“How do I stop seeing
my
weaknesses?”

“You won’t. Ever. Just be confident in yourself. If he’s the right one, he won’t care about your weaknesses. He’ll love your strengths.”

“I think Willow was saying something similar earlier.”

“Good. Since we’re on the same page and you’ve heard this lecture once before, please take me home.” A yawn the size of Nebraska escaped Jace’s mouth. “I need more sleep, too.”

I drove Jace home. The fact that Jude hadn’t called me back had me concerned. It was after noon and I’d called him at nine this morning. I doubted Triple R had a three-hour meeting. How much personal trainer training is there to do?

I pulled into our drive and a motorcycle was parked on our side. I parked behind the hot black bike. Maybe Kanyon’s horse?

As I exited my car, I heard a greeting.

“Hi, Presley.”

My body responded with a tiny shiver.

I walked around the car. “Hi, Jude.” I stopped when I was facing him at the bottom of the stairs.

His body was covered in form-accentuating denim down low, and smooth leather up top. All I could think was how I’d love to shove my face into his jacket and take a big long whiff.

“Would you like to come in?” My legs finally found a will to move toward where he sat.

“No, thanks. I have to get ready for work at Two Fine. I’m sorry to show up unannounced and I hope you don’t find it too stalker-like that I looked up your address in the Triple R system. I didn’t know if you’d tell me where you lived after last night.”

I tipped my head in consideration. There was a real possibility I wouldn’t have.

“No problem. Jude, I’m very sorry for getting out of control last night.”

He stood from the front stoop and took the two steps down to the driveway. “I understand why you were acting like you were.”

My speech froze in my throat, and my body was trapped in place as we stared at each other. His hypnotizing hazel eyes caught the high afternoon sun’s rays and the gold flecks sparkled.

He continued, dropping his gaze, “And thank you for the apology. The fact is, I am your personal trainer. Not concentrating on my job almost injured you and almost derailed my career at the gym. I don’t want either of those things to happen.
Especially
the first. I think it’s smart for both of us if we maintain a professional relationship as trainer and client.”

I swallowed. Jumbled thoughts of how I didn’t want him to be only my personal trainer sprinted through my brain. I wanted to tell him that I wanted him. That I wanted him to want me. That I wanted things to be different.

But I just nodded in agreement and stepped around him.

I steadied my voice but kept my back to him. “Okay, I understand. Have a good weekend, Jude. I’ll see you Monday morning. No need to text a reminder. Promise, I’ll be there.”

I opened the front door and sank to the floor while his bike roared away.

It wasn’t the first time a guy presented information that confirmed I wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, thin enough, smart enough … or just enough. Unlike before, this time the hurt was crushing me somewhere deep inside, instead of crushing me from the outside in.

Hours later, when she arrived home from work, that was where Willow found me. She helped me to my bedroom. Without asking me any details, she rubbed my back until I fell asleep. I slept all night and well into the next morning.

Around noon, I dragged myself to the shower and prepared myself with minimal effort to head to the humane society for my volunteer hours. Getting unconditional love from the animals seemed to relieve whatever ailed me, but today the funk was too great. Even the animals sensed the cloud of gloom I brought with me.

Except one. She had her own cloud of gloom.

There was this little white dog that had been in the shelter for weeks. I’d watched plenty of families, couples, and singles stop to take a look at her but they’d shake their heads when she would cower in the back of the kennel. They’d ask the standard questions to the adoption counselor:
What’s wrong with her? Why doesn’t she act like a normal dog? We’re nice people, what happened to her that she can’t trust us?
As a stray the animal control officer picked up, these were unanswerable questions. Sometimes there wasn’t a reason. That was just how the animal was born. Sometimes there was an answer but knowing didn’t always help either.