by Tess Harper
He fell back on the beach. I dropped to my knees.
“Oh shit, are you O.K.?” I said frantically.
He coughed again and propped himself up on his elbows. “That’s definitely not the reaction I was expecting,” he said with a crooked smile. He sat up and looked down at his stomach, laughing. “I think you bruised me.”
He wasn’t mad? Why wasn’t he mad? I was still mad! “Well, you asked for it!” I whined like a defiant third grader.
He started to laugh harder. “You’re cute when you’re angry,” he grinned. “And don’t worry, your shirt is safe, I brought it home with me last night with the intention of finding you and giving it back.”
Oh. Well, that was kind of sweet. Almost.
He smiled as he gazed up at me. I started to laugh. It was a mix of embarrassment and relief, but his eyes were genuine and they soothed me. It was quiet for what felt like a minute before I spoke.
“Bet you didn’t think you were going to get socked by a girl on the beach this morning.”
“Yeah, I didn’t realize Rocky had a little sister.”
“Hah—” I scoffed, “Good one, real original.”
He glanced down at his budding bruise, then back up at me. “Ouch, I think I need some aloe for that burn.”
“Seriously?” I threw my hands up into the air. “Does that work on anyone? Is that how you get girls Fabio? Bad puns and one liners you used in Jr. High?”
He laughed. “Damn Emily. You’re wound tight.” He winked. “Like a top.”
Ughhh! Who is this guy? I glared at him.
“Oh, come on!” He said playfully. “Loosen up…it’s not like I’ve seen you topless or anything.” He winked again.
I crossed my arms. “I am not wound tight.”
“Yes you are.”
“Am not.”
“Emily, you run four miles on the beach at 5:30am everyday.”
“So? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Live a little. The Emily from last night is still in there. I bet you always used to live in the moment like that.”
“Excuse me? I always live in the moment. In fact, I think it’s impossible to be a conditioned being and not live in the moment.” I frowned. “And how the hell do you know when I run?”
“I don’t doubt you’re alive, Emily. I just think there’s a lot more to life than schedules and rules. You should seize the moment.”
My eyes narrowed. “Don’t change the subject. How do you know when I run? Are you stalking me?”
He smiled. “How do you think I knew where to find you so I could give you your shirt back?”
“Don’t try to deflect the question by asking another question Bucko.”
Bucko? Really, Emily? BUCKO???
He laughed, “Alright, you win.”
I grinned in satisfaction.
“The reason I know you run every morning is because I see you running every morning, but I’m not stalking you. I come to the beach a lot, and it’s hard to miss a tall, sexy blonde.”
My cheeks pinked. Did he just call me sexy? Shit. Emily don’t get distracted by his games, he’s just trying to change the subject again.
I crossed my arms tighter. “I’m totally fun and carefree,” I huffed. “I just like to run.”
“Good.” He smiled lazily. “I like to run too.”
I laughed. “I am not running with you.”
“Come on,” he said, getting to his feet.
I couldn’t help noticing his abs tighten as he stood up. His skin was perfectly tan. I couldn’t keep my eyes off that washboard six pack.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. He was smiling. “Alright, if running is out of the question, let me take you to breakfast.”
I was so shocked I almost fell back. “What?!”
“Let’s go to breakfast,” he repeated.
“Uhmm,” I stuttered completely off guard, “no.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“That’s not a good enough answer.”
“Why do you need a ‘good enough’ answer? Just saying no should be good enough.”
He sighed. “Look, if you really don’t want to go, then you don’t have to go. I’ll go back to the house and creepily watch you finish your run from the bushes under the deck in my fisherman hat and binoculars.”
“Yeah, that just sealed it. Definitely not going.”
He grinned, undeterred. “But I want you to think about this carefully, because if you don’t go out to breakfast with me right now, you may just regret it for the rest of your life.”
I laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
He arched a brow. “You sure about that?”
“Hell yes I’m sure.”
He ran one of his strong hands through his adorably scruffy sandy blond hair. “Damn, you answered that really fast.”
“I know.”
“And you were really assertive.”
“Yep.”
He looked down at me with puppy eyes.
“Oh, you are shameless,” I laughed. “I can’t believe you are resorting to puppy eyes.”
“I can’t help it. I love assertive women.”
I glanced at his chest. Yep, I’d left a bruise. A big one. “And violent women,” I added.
“Hey, any girl who can hit that hard is worth the fight. I’m wearing this with pride.” He drew a line down the center of his chest. And no, it totally didn’t make me want to run my hands down his chest either, I swear.
Ugh, why did he have to be so cute? “I don’t know anything about you,” I evaded. “We haven’t been introduced.”
He laughed. “My name’s Jack.”
I didn’t know what to say so I just looked at him. God he was beautiful. Why was I hesitating? No one in their right mind would say no to a guy like him…a guy with sandy blond hair and electric blue eyes, rock hard abs and a killer bod. A guy who wanted to take her out to breakfast. There had to be something seriously wrong with me.
Then again, this boy was trouble. He had bad-news written all over him. No guy in his early twenties was this confident, smooth and handsome. I didn’t like the way he made my heart race every time he looked at me..and, more than that, I didn’t like the way he made me want to be bad. My hormones were going into overdrive. It was amazing I didn’t strip off all my clothes, tackle him and make love to his beautiful body right here on the beach with the waves crashing against our colliding bodies and the Benny’s calling the cops.
Alright, maybe I couldn’t, in good conscience, blame all of that last part on him, but still he was dangerous. Trouble.
And I wanted him.
My heartbeat spiked. Shit, I wasn’t ready for this! I had to stay far, far away from him.
I turned to leave. “Well, it was nice to meet you Jack.”
“Wait.” He caught my arm. “Are you really shooting me down?”
“Yeah. Like a star,” I replied, giving him a taste of his own medicine.
He busted out puppy eyes again. “Really?”
Damn! His puppy eyes should make him look pathetic, not make me want to get down and dirty with him in the sand. “You are so shameless,” I told him again. “I really can’t give into you.”
“Hey, why not?”
I mulled over my words. “Because there’s no chase,” I said slowly, enjoying the words as they rolled off my tongue.
“You like the chase?” he said sounding intrigued.
“Yeah, I do…” I replied mysteriously.
“You know, I’m glad you said that, because I don’t think we finished our Marco Polo game last night.”
I couldn’t keep myself from smiling. “Oh really?”
“Yeah, really. If I’d known we were playing tag, there’s no way you would have beat me.”
I tilt my head. “You sound like a sore loser.”
“No, not a sore loser. I just never lose.”
“Good,” I told him, not backing down. “Neither do I.
”
Jack took a step toward me and lowered his voice. “Ready or not, here I come.”
I narrowed my eyes as I grinned. Then, I stretched out my hand toward Jack. He looked at me with a crooked smile. Oh, he still thought he had a chance of winning? That was so cute.
I tagged his chest. “You’re it!”
I didn’t wait to see his reaction. The moment my hand touched his rock hard perfection I was already gone.
I sprinted. I sprinted as fast as I could, and then I sprinted faster. I breathed in the salty sea air and didn’t look back. A rush of adrenaline raced through my veins. I smiled to myself knowing that he could never catch me. As immature as it was to tag Jack, it was the only way I could keep myself safe from everything bad Jack made me want to do. I pumped my arms and kept running.
Catch me if you can.
***
For the first time in my entire life I feared I wouldn’t be fast enough. I could see his shadow in the sand beside me. Shit!
I pushed forward, gaining speed. Come on Emily! I charged forward with what was left in my acid heavy legs. Keep breathing, just a few more steps. I grunted and reached my hand out for the railing.
“Emily,” he called from behind me. “Wait up!”
Yeah right. I turned my head when I got to the top of the staircase. He was further back than I thought he was. “Tired already?” I called back.
“Not a chance,” he grunted, clearly lying because everyone is exhausted after sprinting half a mile in the sand.
I smirked. “If I let you tag me it wouldn’t be much of a game would it?”
Jack flashed a wicked grin and sped up.
Crap, better get moving!
I took off down the boardwalk toward Main Street. Luckily, the morning rush of moms with strollers and kids on cruiser bikes hadn’t shown up yet. The whole stretch was mine. I jumped onto the sidewalk and crossed the street at Washington Avenue. He was still behind me and our gap was getting smaller.
Damn. I shouldn’t have stopped. But I just had to gloat, didn’t I? After two blocks down Washington I took a right onto Third Avenue. My apartment was just eight blocks away.
Wait.
Shit.
Who leads a guy back to her apartment on the first date? Especially a guy who’s so eager to make me ‘it’? I was such an idiot! I had to make a detour.
I stayed on Third until I hit Lincoln Avenue. A quick glance over my shoulder showed me Jack was only half a block away. Then, as if it were the sound of angels singing from the heavens, I heard the foghorn signaling a boat coming into harbor.
I smiled. Perfect. I knew just what to do. The Belmar Bridge was close. I could hear the warning bell; the bridge was lifting. If I made the bridge before it went up, I might loose him.
I had one chance. I couldn’t hesitate. I couldn’t second guess myself and worry if the plan would work or if it would fail.
My legs felt like lead and I was beginning to get a stitch below my left lung, but I couldn’t give up. Emily Vaughn does not give up! I thought, trying to pep myself up. Beat the bridge!
I dug deep and shot my legs forward with each stride. And then I did something stupid. Something I knew was the worst possible thing I could do. But like seeing a new mosquito bite and not itching it, I couldn’t help myself. I turned my head.
Jack was less than a quarter of a block away from me. He was gaining on me.
No! I screamed in my head, afraid of the inevitable. just half a block behind me. No! I screamed in my head. The bridge was starting to rise and I was still two blocks away. I wasn’t going to make it.
Just then, his cocky, smug, perfect smile and mesmerizing cobalt eyes flashed in my mind. In my mind, he had his shirt off, and I could see his washboard abs. His sandy blonde hair was wet from the sea and slicked back. And…
Snap out of it Emily!
I shook my head trying to rid his godlike perfect image from my brain. I had to think about the negatives. What would happen if I didn’t make the bridge?
First, that would mean Jack would win and ew, that guy totally didn’t need anything else stroking his ego.
Second, it would mean Jack would beat me. Double ew.
And third, it would mean that I would have to go to freaking IHOP with him as his ‘victory prize’. Also, I hated to admit this but I had to be honest, based on the way I’d reacted to him at the beach, there was a very small—in fact, almost infinitesimal—chance that if I went with him I’d end up stroking more than just his ego.
Losing was not an option.
A block away and a group of cyclists up ahead were blocking my path. I leapt off the sidewalk into the street. Yes. I’d made the bridge. There was only one problem: it was starting to rise.
Shit!
I balled my fists until my fingernails dug into my palms.
I’d have to jump the bridge.
A sane person would’ve said HELL NO! but I’m not sane. I had an insanely gorgeous, shirtless man chasing me down so that he could buy me breakfast. He had ripped abs. Chiseled arms and back. Alright, maybe there was something wrong with me. Would breakfast with this guy really be that bad? A normal girl would have jumped at the chance to go on a date with Jack, but I’m not normal. I was the one girl who would rather jump a rising bridge than lose to a major hottie at a game of tag.
Yep. I’m crazy. But the good part about crazy was that crazy didn’t quit. If I hesitated, the bridge would become too steep for me to run on and the gap too big for me to jump, so I didn’t think twice before shooting forward like a ball out of a cannon. If I missed and fell through the gap and died, so be it. I reached the edge of the bridge and leapt…
Thud. I hit the other side of the bridge. My adrenaline was so high that my whole body was shaking. I tripped and skidded on my hip down the pavement.
“Aghh,” I cried trying to slow myself down with my palms.
“WHOA LADY!!” I heard a bridge patroller yell. “You tryin’ to get yourself killed?”
Nope. I thought pathetically, just trying to run away from the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen, a guy who makes me wild and crazed, and a bridge jumper. My heart was pounding so fast I couldn’t think. The people in the cars in front of me gawked and pointed. I slowly regained my balance and stood, legs still shaking.
What were you thinking? My voice of reason finally starting to kick in. You jumped a bridge? You jumped a bridge so an insanely gorgeous man wouldn’t take you breakfast?
I turned and looked at the bridge now fully elevated, letting the yacht pass under it. The cold cement stared back at me, but even through it’s asphalt walls I could feel his dangerous, fierce blue eyes shooting straight through me.
Any boy who could make me jump a rising bridge was trouble, but Jack was more than that. He was dangerous because he made me want to do it again. A part of me wanted that breakfast. A part of me wanted to just sit down with him and laugh, living in the moment until I completely forget everything about…
A shiver ran down my spine. No, I wouldn’t think of that. It was best to move on. I wouldn’t let my emotions lead me down a bad path again.
I glanced back at the still elevated bridge. Would I ever see him again? Every neuron in my brain screamed no, but every inch of my body burned for more.
I hope I will.
***
Three blocks later, I realized that when I’d run away from Jack, I’d also run away from something really important: my work clothes.
Shit. He still had them. And he probably wouldn’t give them back unless I let him take me out for breakfast.
Or maybe not. I had punched him on the beach and humiliated him in front of all those people back at the bridge. Maybe he’d do something to them just to spite me. Pour bleach on them, maybe, or give them back to Jerry. Then again, he might be afraid that doing something like that would piss off the crazy chick. I’d already hit him once, and who knew what a girl who was willing to jump a bridge to get away from you could do?
&n
bsp; I glanced back. The bridge was still up. How was I going to find him again? He’d probably fled the scene. Ugh, why was I so freaking dumb? I groaned and tried to remember another route back across the river. I started walking south, back toward the beach.
The houses in the area sure were big. Most of them were vacation or second homes, and they looked like it. There was a perfection and care to them that you usually only see when someone is trying to build a sanctuary. Native bushes and shrubs decorated the edges of the lawns. Each house was painted a classic, neutral color that reeked of status and class.
