by Julia London
“Look at you!” Hallie said, and put her hands on his biceps and tried to squeeze them. “You’re a beast! Did they do this to you in the army? Or did you always have these giant arms?”
“Okay,” he said, smiling wryly as he caught her arms and forced her hands from his biceps. “I want to show you a couple of things before we start. Is it okay if I touch you?”
She sighed as if he was taxing her. “Do you think I’ll melt? Of course you can touch me, Rafe. We’re friends. We’ve known each other all our lives, remember?”
He didn’t think she was going to melt. She was sexy as hell, and she looked very sturdy. She looked like she could give as good as she got. His mind tried to detour into giving her what he wanted to give her. He reined it back in. He turned her around so that her back was to him. “Stand up straight.”
“I am standing up straight.”
“You’ve got your weight on one hip and your hands on your waist like you’re about to tell me off. Stand up straight.”
She muttered something unintelligible under her breath, but dropped her arms and stood up straight.
He put his hands on the sides of her hips. Lightly. Hardly touching her at all. But Hallie made a little jump as if he’d startled her. He felt a little jump in him, too. He was acutely aware of every place his hands and fingers touched her body. He drew a shallow breath and pressed lightly against her, then pushed her pelvis forward just a bit. “Feel that?”
“I feel your hands on my butt,” Hallie said.
“I meant the position of your pelvis.”
“Don’t try and talk sexy to me.”
“That’s where you want your pelvis to be,” he said. And then he stepped away before he did something crazy, like slip his arms around her waist and draw her into his chest and nuzzle her neck.
“Suck in that core, girl,” he said. “Arms waist level.” He bent his elbows, demonstrating. “Don’t look at your feet, look forward. Ready?”
“Why are you making this so complicated?”
“Let’s go,” he said, and started off in a jog. After a moment’s hesitation, Hallie did, too. She ran slowly, probably because he was telling her to keep her feet beneath her and to stop hunching her shoulders.
“Too many instructions!” she shouted at him.
Rafe dropped out and watched her run around the track. She had a weird swing of her arms that made him want to laugh. When she made it one length around the track, she stopped. She sounded asthmatic.
“Had enough for today?” he asked.
She straightened up and punched his chest. “I’m not a quitter!” she said breathlessly. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Then let’s go again.” He ran with her this time, chatting easily as she labored in her breathing. “You’re running too fast,” he advised her. “You want to go at a pace where you can still talk.”
“Talk!” she wheezed. “Don’t be stupid—I can’t even breathe.”
They made another lap, and when they came back to the start, she folded over and gasped for breath like she was having a panic attack. “How far was that?” she asked breathlessly. “About a mile or so?”
“You’ve gone a half mile.”
She glared at him. “You are lying, Rafael Fontana!”
“Each lap is four hundred meters,” he said, pointing to the four hundred mark on the track. “Sixteen hundred meters makes a mile.”
“I hate you,” she said curtly, and took off again.
They continued like this, Hallie near to collapsing at the end of every lap, but getting up to go again, and Rafe jogging alongside her, encouraging her. When she’d gone two miles, she collapsed onto the track flat on her back and sprawled out. “I’m dying. I’m hot. I have on too many clothes. How long is a marathon?”
With his legs braced and his arms folded, Rafe stared down at her. “Laps or miles?”
“Laps, meanie.”
“One hundred and four. You’ve done eight so far.” He squatted down beside her. “It was hard, wasn’t it?” he asked sympathetically.
“So hard.”
“I know what could make it better.”
Her face filled with hope. “A donut?”
“Not a donut. Glutes. If you work on strengthening your butt, this won’t be so hard.”
Hallie slowly pushed herself up to her elbows. “I really, honestly, want to punch you in the mouth so bad right now,” she said. “What I’m ready for is a damn donut, Rafe. Shut up about strong butts.”
“Fair enough,” he said, and stood up, offering his hand to help her up. “Let’s get a donut.”
She slipped her hand into his and allowed him to haul her up. She came up with a bounce and a suspicious glare. She was standing close enough that he could see flecks of gold in her hazel eyes, and the tiny line of perspiration that ran down her temple. “Tell me the truth,” she said. “Were you trying to kill me?”
“I would never try and kill you on a track, Hallie. Too easy. I like a challenge in all that I do.” He slipped his hand under her elbow.
“Oh yeah?” Her gaze flicked to his mouth, and Rafe’s blood immediately began to flow a little quicker in his veins. She wasn’t going to kiss him again, was she? One time was an accident. Two times was definitely—
“What sort of challenge?” she asked.
So many thoughts rambled through his head, so many images, that he was struck silent for a moment. The challenge of wooing her, for a start. Of seducing her. The challenge of making love to her in a way she would never forget and would compare every other man to for the rest of her life. Yeah, that kind of challenge.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked, and lifted her gaze to his.
Was he just deranged, or was he feeling something flow between them? Something sharp and tingly, a thousand bursts of laser light in his head. He had the fleeting idea that he should kiss her. Turn the tables. Take her beneath the bleachers and ruin years of a friendship that he truly valued. It sounded ridiculous in his head, but in that very heated moment, it seemed almost worth the risk.
“Or are you feeling guilty for torturing me?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Nope,” he murmured. “There are other ways I’d like to torture you—”
Divine intervention saved him from saying something he would definitely regret—two people walked out onto the track and waved cheerfully at them. He caught sight of them from the corner of his eye, and like he’d trained himself to do over the years, he faded away from Hallie. “Like some squats, here and now, baby,” he said cavalierly, and grinned. “But I guess it’s donut time.” He put his hand on her nape and squeezed like he used to do to Angie, and started them walking in the direction of the truck.
* * *
• • •
Hallie picked out the largest jelly donut Jo Carol had in the bakery display. Rafe opted for a breakfast sandwich and carefully avoided Jo Carol’s inquisitive look that was darting back and forth between him and Hallie beneath her towering hive of platinum hair.
“It’s good to see you, Hallie,” Jo Carol said as she made their coffees. “You look good in spite of everything.”
Leave it to Jo Carol to subtly slide into gossip.
Hallie looked up. “Thank you,” she said uncertainly.
“Are you going to be sticking around Three Rivers?” Jo Carol asked, and fixed her gaze on Hallie, watching her closely. “I know your mom must really love having you at home.”
Rafe could see the color rising in Hallie’s cheeks. Jo Carol kept her finger firmly pressed against the town’s pulse, and every little thing about the Prince family was fodder. Rafe had no doubt Jo Carol would be sharing Hallie’s answer with whoever came in the door today.
But Hallie was a pro at this. She suddenly smiled prettily and shrugged. “You know, I’m not really sure,” she said, as if thinking a
bout it for the first time. “I have so many options, and I haven’t quite decided.”
“Oh, you do?”
“I do.”
“Anything you want to share?”
“Nope.” Hallie smiled, and took her jelly donut.
That was all Jo Carol would get today, and Rafe could tell from Jo Carol’s sly smile that she knew it. So she turned her large bosom and her attention toward Rafe, because she was not one to give up without a fight.
“Rumor had it you were in town,” she said as she poured coffee into their cups. “Rumor has it you’re going to be a college graduate soon.”
“Rumor’s been busy,” Rafe said. “I’ve got one last final and I’ll have my degree.”
“Well, that’s great, Rafe,” Jo Carol said. “We’re all so proud of you. I’ve always said to the young men around here they ought to consider the armed services. It’s great they can help people go to college who otherwise probably couldn’t afford it.”
Rafe felt a sharp prick of self-consciousness with that remark. Not because what she said wasn’t true—his parents maybe could have afforded to send one of them to college, but not all three—but because it was a blatant and pointed reminder of how vastly different his life was from Hallie’s. She had options, so many options, as she’d said. She could have gone to any college she’d wanted. She could have gone to any college in the world. Charlie Prince would have sent her to Russia to study ballet if she wanted.
He was lucky because the government had paid for his college.
Jo Carol handed him the coffees. “I’m sure Hallie will miss you when you’re gone. Won’t you, Hallie?” she asked slyly.
“Of course I will,” Hallie said. “I always miss Rafe—we’ve been friends since we were kids. But we’ll text. Won’t we,” she said, elbowing him playfully.
“Sure,” he said.
“Mm-hmm,” Jo Carol said, and arched a brow in Rafe’s direction. “And your poor parents. I know your dad needs you right now. How is your mother, by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while and I hope she’s okay.”
Rafe could feel a prickling on the back of his neck. He wanted away from Jo Carol and her prying ways. “Mom’s doing great. Thanks for this.” He held up the coffee.
“You bet. Anyway, I’m sure both of your parents are relieved Rico will be home by the time you leave town.”
Hallie gasped with surprise. “Rico’s coming home?” she asked with great delight. “I haven’t seen him in ages!”
“Rumor has it,” Jo Carol said with a sly little shrug. “You two enjoy this beautiful morning, now.”
Too late for that, courtesy of one Jo Carol.
The sun had come up and warmed the day, so Rafe suggested they go outside where Jo Carol couldn’t hear a damn thing they said. They walked out to a sidewalk bench near the town square. Occasionally, a car would slowly rumble by, the tires bouncing along the cobblestones of Main Street. At one end of the thoroughfare was the courthouse. At the other, the shiny new Saddlebush Land and Cattle Company, the Three Rivers Ranch business headquarters. They’d recently installed a bronzed statue of a bronc rider in front of it.
The bench they chose was beneath a live oak tree, and there was a dark stain at one end Hallie did not like. So she sat next to him, so close that she was touching him. He could feel the warmth of her, and as he ate his sandwich, he imagined that it was her skin touching him. And then he took it from there, torturing himself by imagining skin on skin, because apparently he liked choosing the worst time and place for sexual fantasies. Hallie in a bath. Hallie in a bed. Hallie on top . . .
“I’m so excited Rico is coming home,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The sexy images self-destructed into tiny little bits. Rafe made himself look at her. “Must have slipped my mind.”
“No one can make me laugh harder than Rico. Sometimes, the image of us as the twins from The Shining pops into my head, and I can’t help laughing.”
Something turned a little sour in Rafe’s belly. “What?”
Hallie looked at him with surprise. “I never told you? Where were you? Oh, that’s right, you’d gone off to the army. It was the year Rico and I graduated from high school. We were hanging out and Rico had the idea for Halloween. He found these cheap blue dresses and bought wigs.” She laughed. “It was hilarious.”
Rafe couldn’t imagine how they’d been invited to the same party. Rico had always run with a very different crowd—a boozy, pot-smoking crowd, mostly cowboys and oil field workers. “I didn’t know you two were getting invited to the same parties.”
“It wasn’t a party. It was an event at the Galaxy,” she said, referring to an avant-garde theater in town. “They were screening The Shining and everyone was supposed to come in costume.” She ate more of her donut.
Rafe put half his sandwich back in a little bag, his appetite gone. This long-ago Halloween event didn’t sit well with him, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. “Was it a date?” he asked, careful not to meet her gaze.
“What?” Hallie laughed. “Oh my God, Rafe! Of course not. We were hanging out as friends, just like you and I are hanging out as friends. It’s just that Rico and I have both been kind of aimless at times and available for things like that.” She shrugged. “It was fun.”
Rafe swallowed down a lump of something bitter. It wasn’t as if it mattered—it had been ten or so years ago. So why did it feel like it mattered?
Because he’d always been a little jealous of Rico’s easy, breezy way.
“Hey, when are you leaving?” she asked.
“Hmm?” He was still thinking of his charming, fun-loving, troublemaking little brother.
“When you finish school. You’re moving to Chicago, right?” She looked up at him and smiled. “Rumor has it you’re going,” she said, mimicking Jo Carol.
Yes, he was going. His plan had always been to be out of here before she got married, to be long gone so he wouldn’t have to see the happy bride with her new, wealthy doctor husband. Or worse—with a happy family. “First of the year.”
“You haven’t said much about it. Is that perhaps because I’ve been sucking up all the available air with my woes?” She turned her head and looked him directly in the eye.
She had a bit of jelly in the corner of her mouth. Rafe impulsively scraped it off with the tip of his little finger. “You haven’t sucked up all the available air.”
“Bullshit,” she said cheerfully. “No one gets down in the weeds of self-pity like I do, trust me. Tell me about Chicago.”
Rafe wanted desperately to tuck the loose strand of strawberry blond hair behind her ear. He wanted desperately to tell her everything about the program. To lay down on a blanket in the hills somewhere and just talk about life and plans and hopes for the future.
“With two close friends, I’m starting a program for teens,” he said. “The goal is to get them off the street and away from drugs, and teach them how to use their minds and bodies productively.”
“By teaching them martial arts.”
“Among other things,” he said. “We’re designing the program so it tackles everything—tutoring, physical training, peer support. You name it. All three of us have some connection to troubled youth. For me, it was Rico. Jason’s sister died of a heroin overdose while we were in Afghanistan. And Chaco is a recovering alcoholic.”
“But why Chicago?” she asked. “Why not here?”
Because you are here. Because I can’t spend my life mourning you.
“Jason’s from Chicago and lives on the South Side. His family has a lot of connections. It’s really the perfect location, near some low-income schools and neighborhoods that have high dropout rates. We found a space and we’re starting to outfit it. I get up there as often as I can to help, but until I finish school, I can’t be there as much as I’d like.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
He snorted.
“No, you really are. You were born wanting to do good.”
Rafe chuckled. “Isn’t everyone born wanting to do good?”
“No. And even if they are, it seems like most people turn that around by the time they are adults and want to do good for themselves and not others. I’m just saying, you’re one in a million, and you deserve the best of everything.”
She was one in a million, and oh, how he wanted to kiss the tiny bit of jelly that remained on the corner of her mouth.
Her eyes were on his mouth again, and maybe he was imagining things, or hoping things, but Rafe could feel the heat begin to swirl around them, wrapping them in a cocoon.
They both jumped when her phone suddenly started playing trumpets.
“Shit,” Hallie said, and slapped a hand to her heart. “Why do I choose these ringtones?” She dug her phone from her pocket and looked at the screen. “Christ Almighty.”
“Something wrong?”
“It’s Chris.” She turned the screen to Rafe so that he could read the text.
Hallie, please talk to me. I saw your Insta page and I am so, so sorry I’ve caused you so much pain. I made a huge mistake. Please talk to me.
Rafe’s gaze locked with Hallie’s. A smile slowly moved across her lips, and in the next minute, they were both laughing. “What should I say?” she asked, giggling. “‘Just wait till you see what I do with the shoes’?”
“What do you really want to say?” Rafe asked, ignoring the pinch in his chest, afraid to hear the answer.
“I want to say, ‘Get lost. Don’t text me.’ Or how about this—‘Today I learned how to run from assholes like you, Chris.’” She laughed, then looked at her phone again. A frown creased her brow. She abruptly typed in a text, then read aloud, “I’ve moved on, Chris, exclamation mark, exclamation mark. Please don’t text me.” She hit send.
She was putting the phone back in her pocket when it trumpeted again. Hallie and Rafe bent over the phone together.