As the first rays of the morning sun began to creep into the bedroom, still wide awake, Zoe started to wonder about something that had been nagging at her. And that was, why she felt she was only worthy of a sex life and nothing more.
But knew it could be since she could never have any kind of a love life at home, she felt all she really needed to be happy was to finally experience the thrill of something a little wild, without considering anything deeper.
Saddest part of the whole thing was, she really liked Tate too, and could already tell that he was one of the good ones. So she wondered why she'd felt compelled to tell him that she didn't want anything more from him than just sex. No wonder he was upset, if a guy had told her that, she knew she'd have been hurt, too.
And now she wondered what she could do to fix it, but knew that trying to mend what she'd said with
more
sex was probably out of the question at this point. And after what she'd said to him, she had a pretty strong feeling that the sexy professor was probably no longer willing to fulfill her sensual fantasies with her anymore, anyway. And who could blame him? She heaved a sigh. For a reasonably intelligent woman, she sure did some pretty dumb things sometimes.
Later, when she finally awoke later from a fitful sleep, she noticed she wasn't curled up nice and tight against him anymore, mostly because he was no longer in bed. Sitting up, she listened for any sign of him, relieved to hear the water running in the kitchen, glad that he hadn't left. Then she gave herself a stretch, trying to decide what her next move should be. At this point she knew a simple apology probably wouldn't cut it, not after the way she'd hurt him.
So, she decided to wander into the kitchen to try and test his mood. "Morning," she said brightly when she saw him standing at the fridge in just his boxers -- looking hot and sexy as ever.
But his hotness just nodded his head, and muttered, "Morning," not even bothering to look at h er.
"Can I make you some breakfast?" Zoe asked hopefully.
"No, that's okay. I was thinking of going for a run. So, I'll just get a bottle of water, change into my gear and go."
Scrambling for something to say, she knew she had to say something before he left, so she said, "Oh, that's funny, I was thinking of going for a run this morning, too." And that was such a huge honking lie, she wondered if she should check the mirror to see if her nose had actually grown any, since she'd never gone for a run in her entire freaking life. The occasional long walk, the odd time on the treadmill, maybe a leisurely swim at her local pool, or that one disastrous time she'd foolishly tried advanced yoga, and nearly broken her neck, but that was it. Those were the limits of her fitness regime, which really wasn't much of a regime, more like something she did when she panicked after she'd done something stupid like stuffing her face with a big fat slice of creamy cheesecake or one too many slices of extra cheese pizza.
Tate seemed to be considering what she said for a minute. Finally shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Sure, I guess you can come if you want."
And what an enthusiastic invitation
that
was. Yep, no doubt about it, he was still pissed. "Okay, I'll just go change, then. I won't be long."
Thankfully, she'd packed an old pair of sneakers, or she would have felt pretty foolish attempting to traipse along beside him in a pair of heels. After she got herself a bottle of water she joined him at the front door and tried to give him a friendly smile. But he just narrowed his eyes coolly, so clearly that wasn't going to work on him either.
Out in front of the building before they got started, Zoe carefully followed Tate's lead when he did a few forward lunges, followed by some squats, before he reached back to grasp one ankle then the other, stretching out both his long muscled legs, following it with a full body shake out. And as he did, he eyed her, trying not to laugh as she followed his every move to the letter.
'What the hell is she doing?'
He wondered, watching as she mimicked him. '
Does she think this is some kind of weird game
of
Simon Says
?'
Whatever.
Not really caring much what she did at this point, he said, "I'll try not to run too fast, so you can keep up."
"Yeah, that might be good." Very good actually, or he might look back to find her in a crumpled heap on the sidewalk.
After running only two blocks Tate could see that Zoe was struggling to keep up and looking pretty winded. Finally, he slowed his pace and then stopped. "Hey, you okay?"
Her cheeks bright red, arms wrapped around her waist, bent over, he could tell she was fighting to catch her breath. "Yeah, I'm good," she huffed out.
No she wasn't, in fact he could tell she looked ready to collapse. "How about if we mix it up and just walk the next block," he suggested.
"Sure," she panted breathlessly, "that would be good, too."
No way in hell was she a runner. Despite the fact in her sexy skin tight, thigh high shorts and little midriff baring top, he could easily discern that her slender body was lean and rounded in all the right places, and that she wasn't in any way out of shape. But she was definitely not accustomed to running. Finally he suggested, "You want to stop for a coffee somewhere?"
Zoe nodded. "If that's what you normally do, sure."
Not since he'd started running at the age of fourteen had he ever stopped on his run for a coffee, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "Yeah, I find it's a nice break from all the running," he said, struggling to hold back a smile.
Again she just nodded, and he had to resist the urge to suggest they turn around and head back to the building so she could put her feet up before she risked passing out, or even stroking out by the looks of her. And he had to wonder why she'd offered to join him on his run if she never ran.
He was honestly stymied. She'd made it pretty clear last night that all they had between them was sex, and since there was nothing even remotely sexy about the way she was fighting to breathe, he couldn't figure out why she was with him. Just up ahead he saw a coffee shop that was open, and he nodded his head toward it.
Once they were inside seated at a booth, Tate watched her grab a few napkins out of the dispenser and wipe her brow, making him realize that he hadn't been running long enough to even break a sweat. Normally accustomed to running at least five miles a day, he knew the half block they'd run would barely have gotten his heart rate up. "You okay over there?" he asked, trying not to give away how adorably funny she looked still panting and wiping her face like she'd just finished a marathon.
"Whew," she said, blowing out a breath. "Yeah, I will be once I have my coffee." Suddenly her eyes went big, looking at him across the table. "Oh, crap, I just realized I didn't bring any money."
