He climbed out of the truck and handed her a bottle of chilled water. She was grateful he remembered. She’d been so out of sorts that morning it had slipped her mind to grab anything.
Taking the water, she walked over to the bleachers, placed the water on the first step, and then proceeded to stretch. He watched her for a moment as though he’d never seen stretching before.
“Are you going to stretch?” she asked as he continued to gawk. Her face and shoulders were warm under the sun, but she knew part of her flush was the result of him continuously watching her.
He twisted his torso a few times carelessly then seemed to think that was enough warming up. “I’m thinking four diamonds makes a rough mile. How many laps do you want to do?” he asked.
She did some quick math in her head. “Let’s walk four, run eight, and walk the last two.”
His eyes bulged. “That’s like four miles!”
“Yeah. That’s what I usually do.”
He drew in a deep breath. “You’re gonna kill me.”
She slapped his shoulder and loped off toward first base. The sound of his sneakers beating against the sand crept up behind her. Her ponytail was yanked and then Finn passed in a flash of green.
“You’re gonna get a cramp,” she called as he rounded second.
She was crossing home plate when he lapped her again. Her heart rate was picking up by her second lap and he was running out of breath. She picked up her pace and began pumping her arms.
Finn was walking beside her. “We should’ve grabbed a radio.”
“My iPod’s in my bag.”
“It’s called an I-pod because it’s only meant for one person, Philly.”
She crossed home plate, shrugged, and broke into a jog. He kept pace with her and she sensed his eyes on her. “Why are you being so quiet?”
Her breath punched in and out of her lungs. “It’s…hard…to…talk and…run…”
They made the next few laps in silence. When she passed the bleachers she stripped off her sweatshirt. It was too damn hot to worry about vanity. She jogged off and he seemed to lag behind, but she never lost track of his pounding footsteps on her tail.
“You tired, Irish?” she teased as she doubled her pace.
“Just enjoying the view.”
Her steps stumbled and she shot him a look over her shoulder as soon as she righted her footing. He smirked and she slowed. Was he looking at her ass? Good God, why?
She fell back until she was running beside him and his gaze remained resolutely straight ahead. Sweat trickled down her cleavage and her neck was slick.
It was strange exercising in the presence of others. She’d thought it would bother her more, but she was actually a little proud she was keeping pace with someone as fit as Finn.
When they passed the bleachers again, he veered off and returned to her side a minute later. “Here,” he said, handing her a bottle of water.
She uncapped it and took a few swigs. “Thanks,” she gasped.
Her legs burned as they made their fourteenth lap. Her heart was racing and her shirt was soaked. Finn kept snagging glances as she ran that last quarter mile and she was extremely conscious of how little a sports bra did for a woman her size.
When they crossed home plate, she fell into a clipped walk, and started to catch her breath. Her sides burned and her blood pumped as she began to cool down.
“That’s was intense, Philly. You do that every day?”
“Unless it’s raining.”
“You could use the track at the school gym when it rains.”
He was in such good shape his voice didn’t even struggle after running nearly four miles. She gazed at his chest. He was breathing heavily and the fabric was soaked with a “V” of perspiration, but otherwise he looked perfect.
“I do sit-ups and stuff on the days it rains. But thanks for the offer.”
He drank the rest of his water and tossed it into a receptacle by the bleachers. “What are we doing after this?”
We? “I have to get my clothes and stuff ready for tomorrow.”
“So after you spend five minutes doing that, what are you doing?”
She snorted and mopped the sweat off her forehead. “I need to shower and it takes me a lot longer than five minutes to put together an outfit.”
“You look good in jeans. Look good in dresses too.”
She eyed him skeptically. Her clothes were decent, but she rarely thought she looked good in anything. As she finished her last lap, her legs quivered from exertion. In an hour there would be that rewarding burn that came with hard exercise. She finished her water and threw the bottle in the recycling can.
“Ugh, I’m disgusting. I hate sweat.”
“You look good in sweat.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“What?” he echoed innocently. “You look good in sweat.”
“Ew. No I don’t!”
He stepped closer and she frowned. “Sure you do. Your cheeks are all rosy and your lips are parted. You’re breathing heavy. You look like a woman who’s been…”
Her brow lowered and she stepped away. “Stop looking at me like that. And get your head out of the gutter. Come on. I need to go home and shower and you’re my ride. I stink.”
It wasn’t fair for him to look at her like that and make sexual comparisons when they were friends. It complicated things. As much as she could whip up some fun fantasies about Finn, that’s all they would ever be. Fantasy.
It was dangerous to even entertain ideas like that regarding him. One, because it would never happen. Guys like that didn’t go for girls like her. Two, even if she could convince him to give her one night of no strings great sex, he’d eventually find Mrs. Right and she’d have to stomach it. And three, she really liked having him as a friend and didn’t want to ruin it.
When they returned to her apartment she assumed he’d just drop her off and go on his way, but he followed her inside. “I need to shower.”
“So shower. Get your stuff together for tomorrow and then we’ll go grab lunch. I’ll even go somewhere with salads if you want.”
Was this because he and Erin had broken up and he didn’t know what to do without her? Was she filler? “What would you normally be doing right now?”
“Hanging out on my own couch watching television with my dad.”
“And Erin?”
He grunted. “No. She never comes to my house. Says it’s too much chaos and gives her a headache.”
“Didn’t you go to her house sometimes?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. Not much.”
“What did you guys do for fun, like couple stuff?”
His shoulder lifted as he stared at the TV, remote targeted in that direction, thumb casually flipping channels. “I don’t know. Went to O’Malley’s. I’d drive her to the mall now and then. Nothing really.”
“Didn’t you go on dates?”
He stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Not really. At least not for a while. She always had something going on and I never really was into the stuff she was. Come to think about it, if we go to lunch it will be the first time I took a girl to a restaurant in a long time. Funny, Erin and I dated but we were never really friends. It’s a lot easier to hang out with friends. Less expectation, more of just being ourselves.”
They went to a little diner in town. She had a salad and Finn had half a cow shoved between a roll. They talked about his time growing up in Center County and her time growing up in the City of Brotherly Love. It amazed her how differently outsiders saw Philadelphia. Finn knew all about the museums and the steps Rocky climbed, from visiting his brother at school. He didn’t see the poverty and rough parts she’d come to know as her home.
“I had one of those cheese steaks when I was there,” he said as if it was a major accomplishment. “That was good.”
“From where? Geno’s, Pat’s, or Tony Luke’s?”
“I don’t think it was any of them.”
“T
hen it wasn’t a real Philly steak.”
“It was still better than any steak sandwich you can get around here.”
“It’s been four months since I had a cheese steak.”
“You gonna have one when you visit home?” he asked, popping a fry in his mouth.
“No, but I might run the steps of the Museum of Art.”
“Yeah, Balboa? I’d like to see that. You could do it.”
She grinned at his belief in her. “Thanks.”
After lunch they drove to the mall because she needed stockings and the kind from the pharmacy always ripped. She didn’t want to be anywhere near a plus sized store with him, but he was turning into a rash she couldn’t shake.
As she evaluated the selection in the women’s department Finn nudged his way through a sales rack. “Hey, Philly, this would look nice on you.”
She hated shopping for clothes. It was always depressing. “I only need stockings.”
He held up the top. It was way too small, she noticed right off the bat. Also, it was bright blue. “I don’t wear blue.”
He frowned. “Why not? Blue’s a nice color. It would match your eyes.”
Flustered that he knew the color of her eyes, she turned and found the size stockings she needed.
“What size are you? I’m gonna buy it for you. You wear black too much.”
“You aren’t buying that for me.”
“Why not? I want to.”
“No, Finnegan.”
“I’m getting it.”
She huffed and turned. “No. Now put it back.” She continued walking to the register.
“Come on, if you don’t tell me what size I’ll just guess—”
Mortified and highly annoyed, she pivoted and snapped, “I said no! I’m not telling you my size, so drop it!”
His expression fell and she felt horrible. “Sorry. All right, I’ll put it back. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”
He turned before she could apologize and she cursed under her breath. “Finn.”
He held up his hand, but didn’t turn. “Forget it.”
They walked back to the car in silence. She berated herself for being a shrew the entire drive home. When he pulled up at her apartment, he didn’t shut off the car and she was sad the moment she realized he wasn’t coming inside.
Her hand went to the handle on the door and she paused. “I’m really sorry for the way I spoke to you.”
His eyes narrowed, his lips set impatiently. “Tell me this, was it because you didn’t want me to spend money on you or because you didn’t want me to know your size?”
She lowered her head, embarrassed on so many levels.
“That’s what I thought. Why do you make it so hard to compliment you? I wanted to do something nice for you Mallory and you—”
“It isn’t nice if it makes me feel bad.”
“It’s just a number,” he snapped. “Who cares if it’s two or twenty?”
“I do! You don’t understand what it’s like to hate yourself the way I do. It’s—”
“You’re right, I don’t! Because when I look at you I see a fun girl who’s beautiful and smart and I can’t understand how—when it comes to her self-image—she can be so dumb.”
Her mouth fell open and she blinked as her eyes suddenly started to sting. “I’ll add dumb to the list of my faults.” Her fingers trembled as she wrenched open the door.
“Damn it, Mallory, don’t take what I said out of context.”
“Thanks for taking me to the mall.” She slammed the door.
Chapter Six
Mallory’s first day of work was busy enough that she barely thought about Finn. She told Samantha, during lunch, what they’d fought about and Sam was very understanding.
“Finn is probably the least judgmental of his whole family. And none of them are really judgmental to begin with. He wouldn’t have batted an eye at your size,” Sam had said.
“I know, but I’m a private person. I hate drawing any attention to my weight.”
Sam scrunched up her face. “I get that. I put on almost fifty pounds when I was pregnant with Lula, fifteen of which I’m still trying to get off. Colin swears it makes no difference, but I see it every time I look in the mirror.”
Mallory narrowed her eyes at the other woman. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. She decided she was preaching to the wrong choir and let the topic drop.
After work she raced home and changed into her running clothes. She was tired and had to drag her ass all the way to the park. She planned on using the McCullough field, but after yesterday she didn’t know if the invitation still stood.
She cranked up her iPod and took twice as long as she usually did, as her heart was just not in it. When she was finished, it was nearly dark. She pulled up outside of her apartment and stilled when she saw Finn’s truck.
Her heart stuttered when she found him waiting on her steps by her front door. He was dressed in sweats and sneakers. “You weren’t at the field,” he said by way of greeting.
“I went to the park.”
His eyes bore into her, but he didn’t say a word. She shifted, unable to make it to her door with him in the way.
“How was your first day?” he asked.
“Fine. Good.”
“Good.”
“What are you doing here, Finn?”
“I felt bad about yesterday.”
“It was my fault. Sometimes I’m overly sensitive—”
“I should have listened the first time you told me no. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She smiled, but his apology made her feel ashamed. Deep down she knew he was only trying to be nice and now he was apologizing for it. “You don’t have to apologize. Let’s just drop it. Do you want to stay for dinner? I’m making fish.”
“Sure.” His legs unfolded and he stood.
They went into her apartment and she pulled out the ingredients for dinner. “I need to shower before I can eat. Can you give me ten minutes?”
“Sure.”
She grabbed her pajamas and went to the bathroom. Ten minutes later she returned, hair tied back in a bun, skin freshly cleaned. She threw together some fresh salsa while the Tilapia baked. It was an easy meal and they were sitting down at the table in no time.
“There’s a girl at my work you might be interested in,” she said as they started to eat.
His fork stilled halfway to his mouth. “Oh?”
She took a bite and nodded. “Her name’s Kelsey Stevens. She teaches intermediate math.”
“Sounds right up my alley.”
She frowned at his tone. “She’s single. I told her about you and she seemed interested. She knows of your family and I think Sam’s had her to the house. You probably saw her before at your niece’s birthday.”
He scraped up another bite and made a noncommittal sound.
“She’s cute. Slim, short, dark hair, pretty smile. You think you’d want to go out with her?”
His fork clattered to his plate. “What are you doing, Mallory?”
“What?” she asked innocently. “I just figured since you and Erin—”
“Since we broke up you just figured you’d fix me up with the next best thing?”
“I don’t want you to go back to her, Finn. She doesn’t appreciate the good catch you are.”
His brow arched. “You think I’m a good catch?”
Duh. “You’re a great catch.”
“And this Kelly is good enough for me, but Erin’s not?”
She cleared her throat and wiped her mouth on her napkin. “Kelsey,” she corrected. “And yes, I think she’d be more your type than Erin.”
“And what’s my type?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s nice.”
“There are lots of nice girls in Center County. What makes this one right for me?”
“She’s pretty.”
“Lots of pretty girls too. I want to know what—specifical
ly—made you see this girl and think, oh, she’d be perfect for Finn.”
She frowned. “I don’t know. Forget I said anything.”
“I don’t want to forget about it. I’m curious. Is it because I’m a charity case?”
“No! Of course not! I just thought you might want to take her out.”
“I don’t.” He eased back in his chair and crossed his arms.
“You haven’t even met her. How do you know?”
“Because I already have my eye on someone else.”
Her nose crinkled. “Who?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Her mouth opened and closed. “Okay. Fine.”
She stood and collected their plates. At the sink she turned on the faucet and began scrubbing the remnants of dinner down the drain. She jumped when Finn stepped behind her. Close. Very close.
“You forgot my fork,” he said, voice husky as he leaned around her shoulder and dropped it in the sink.
Her body tightened and her eyes widened as she stared at the water rushing over her soapy hands frozen in place. Her breath quickened as he seemed to lean into her a moment longer than necessary.
When he pulled back, she let out a breath and needed a moment to find her bearings. She was overreacting. She was totally overreacting. All he did was bring her a utensil and her whole body was on fire.
Maybe she needed to masturbate. That was it. She just needed sex. It had been a long, long time since she’d had any action and she was being overly sensitive. He probably didn’t even realize she’d had that reaction.
You’re pathetic.
After the dishes were done she sat on the couch and watched the news with Finn. He wasn’t sitting on the side like he usually did. He was hogging the middle and she remained stiff so as not to inadvertently touch him.
When the news was over she stood.
“Where you going?”
“I have to get my clothes ready for tomorrow.”
“You spend an abnormal amount of time thinking of things to wear.” He lounged over the other two cushions, making himself at home.
She really wanted to see if she had batteries, but she couldn’t tell him that. “I’ll just be a minute.”
A minute turned into twenty. She was debating over a pair of shoes when Finn walked into her room. She jumped as he approached her.
Skin (McCullough Mountain 2) Page 8
