long breath and leaned forward to grab the glasses she’d set on the coffee table. He slid them back on before looking at her, and she felt a small surge of regret. His mask was firmly in place.
Wall Street was back.
He slowly extended a hand toward her, rubbing a thumb over her bottom lip.
“I should go,” he said quietly.
She bit her lip and refrained from asking why. Why stop something that
good
? If this was how relationships were supposed to progress, she wanted no part of it. She had a major case of blue ovaries.
“You sure you don’t want to stay?”
Mitchell’s eyes fell on her mouth before finally shaking his head. “
Want
and
should
aren’t the same thing in my book.”
She sniffed. “No wonder you look so stuffy.”
Strange man that he was, he grinned at that. “Do you have running shoes?”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. All she wanted was a normal, boring date with this guy, and instead he was running circles around her. “Running shoes? Is that a hint?”
“Yes or no, Ms. Greene.”
“Yes, I own sneakers,” she said, sitting up straighter and trying to keep up.
“Good,” he said, watching her mouth. “Take the A or C train up to Columbus Circle tomorrow. Eight o’clock.”
Her jaw dropped. “Eight in the
morning
? Nothing will even be open. What would we possibly do in Central Park at that time on a
Sunday
?”
He grinned and ran a finger down the bridge of her nose. For a moment she was a little dazzled by the pure excitement on his face. “What do you think? We’re going for a run.”
And just like that, he’d done it again.
Julie was completely and utterly flummoxed by a man.
Chapter Six
At 7:55 on Sunday morning, Julie was sitting on a bench near Columbus Circle, trying to figure out at exactly what point she’d lost her mind.
For starters, she was up before nine on a Sunday. Everyone thought New York was the city that didn’t sleep, but it totally did. It slept on Sundays. Or at least it was supposed to.
And if she was up before nine, it should be to primp for a four-star brunch with the girls. Instead, the most exciting part of Julie’s outfit this morning was her hot pink sports bra. For a run. With a man who she wasn’t even sure liked her.
Everything about them was incompatible, and in any other situation she’d have moved on. But moving on was how she’d gotten herself into this mess in the first place. She had absolutely no experience in sticking it out, and it was time to face the music. Even if the music was of the boring, classical variety.
And then there was the not-so-small matter of that kiss.
That kiss might be worth the price of running. For “fun.” It’s not that Julie didn’t exercise. She did, for thirty minutes, five times a week. But that was solely a necessary evil to keep her thunder thighs under control. She sure as hell didn’t seek out the opportunity to do it in her spare time.
“Julie!”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” she muttered when she saw Mitchell jogging toward her. He looked obnoxiously sporty, fit, and
awake
.
“What the hell are you wearing?” she asked as he stopped in front of the bench where she’d been sulking. Julie’s own workout gear was put together and color-coordinated. It was important to look put together to combat the inevitable sweat. But Mitchell’s running gear was on a totally different level.
Everything looked slightly more high-tech than what she was wearing. His silver shoes had all sorts of reflective stripes that caught the sun. His shirt looked like that expensive, high-tech material that could like whisk your sweat away from your body and throw it into the nearest garbage can. The shorts, at least, were normal.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” he asked, glancing down.
“I guess I just wasn’t aware that NASA made workout gear.”
“You’re grumpy,” he said, pulling her ponytail.
“Oh, yay, it’s playful Mitchell,” she muttered. “Remind me again why we’re
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