Page 28 of The Best Number

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Page 28 of The Best Number

“I’ll just chuck my trainers on, and I’ll be ready.” He grabs his running shoes from the rack beside the door and puts his phone in a back zip pocket similar to the one on my leggings.

“Ready?” He asks with a big grin on his face.

“Sure thing… but remember, you said you’d go easy on me. This is just supposed to be a light jog to enjoy a summer evening.”

“We’ll keep it easy, I promise.”

We make our way out of the flat and through to the stairwell. Jack suggests a brisk walk to the park as a warm-up and I feel grateful for that because it means I can keep up with conversation without wheezing and puffing everywhere.

I ask about his day as we walk, and he tells me about the meetings he had. We’ve chatted about his job as a business strategist many times since I first met him and his enthusiasm for what he does is always clear as day. He’s like a proud papa when he talks about the successes of the companies he’s worked with.

Once we reach the park, Jack asks if I have a pace in mind.

I look at him blankly and blurt, “I just jog. I don’t really pay much attention to how fast I’m going. I just need the exercise.”

He chuckles. “Okay, Cass, let’s do it your way. You set a pace you’re comfortable with and I’ll fall in line.”

I set off at a steady clip, faster than I normally would, and he makes everything look easy as he jogs beside me. I feel myself getting out of puff and realise that I can’t keep this up all the way round. I can’t talk when I run—I’ve never been able to. It’s normally a good thing because it lets me get out of my head when I’m overthinking, but today I just panic about what Jack will think about me.

Jack’s quiet beside me, and I can’t help but steal glances at him as he moves effortlessly. I wish I could just sit on a bench and watch him run in circles around me. The man is built. We come to the hilly part of the park and I ease my pace, slowing to a stop. I place my hands on the top of my thighs and pant as I look up at the hill in front of us.

“I think I might switch to walking for a bit,” I tell him between puffs. “But you go on, you don’t have to wait for me.”

He shakes his head. “I’m in no rush. I don’t mind walking with you.”

He’s talking again now—chatting about work, and I happily listen with minimal input. I realise that it’s nice to be doing this with him. He’s great company and I like the idea of exercising with someone else. Maybe that would convince me to do it more often. Although I guess Jack wouldn’t want to do this on the regular, as he’s barely breaking a sweat. As we head over the crest of the last hill, he gives me a look that I can’t interpret.

“Race to the bottom?” he asks, raising a brow.

Having caught my breath, I’m ready for the challenge. “You’re on,” I cry as I run so fast it feels like I’m about to fall down. He beats me to the bench at the bottom but not by much, and we both laugh as we come to a stop. “That was fun!”

We stand staring at each other for a moment and he takes me unawares when he leans in and plants a kiss on my lips.

“What was that?” I ask as he pulls away.

“You looked cute. I couldn’t resist.”

I bring my hand up to my mouth and dust my finger over my lips where he kissed me. I don’t know what to make of it, but he’s just as carefree as always as he slaps me on the rump and declares, “Come on, let’s jog back.”

Chapter thirteen

Cassidy

As we make our way in, I declare I can’t make it up the stairs and will be taking the elevator to give my legs the break they deserve after carrying me 5 km around the park. Jack laughs and follows me in when the doors slide open. I lean against the rail at the back and look up at the little screen that shows the floor numbers as we make our way up to the third floor.

My cheeks tingle as I feel Jack’s gaze on my face. I look sideways at him with a smile. He reaches a hand up and brushes some hair off my face. I took my cap off when we came back into the building and some of the hair from my ponytail has escaped.

“Thanks,” I say with a smile. He’s staring at my lips. My mouth opens in surprise as he lowers his head and brushes my lips with his own.

“Hmm,” he moans and then deepens the kiss, flicking his tongue between my lips.

Shock skitters up my spine. I’m not sure where this is coming from, and for a second I wonder if this is a dream. Surely, it’snot real. Yes, we had crazy can’t-stop-coming sex last weekend with Tom, but that was a one-off.What’s he doing?I don’t know whether to pull away and ask him, but the lift pings its arrival to our floor, so I don’t have to decide.

He breaks away and gives me a warm smile, grabbing my hand in his and pulling me out of the lift alongside him. He brings his other hand, the one not holding mine, to my cheek and rests it there as he looks into my eyes. I freeze, taking a big swallow, unsure what to say or do next.

“Wanna come back to mine?” he asks huskily. My eyes widen, as wide as saucers.Is he propositioning me? Am I reading more into it than I should?

“What, for like, a drink?” I sound as scatty as I feel right now.




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