Read Online Running Back to You (The Running Series, #1) by Suzanne Sweeney - Free Book Online Page A

the
question.  I look out the window to check on the weather, and I’m greeted by
gray skies.  The skies reflect my mood.  I’m still feeling a little off after
last night’s exchange.  I’d love to be able to be lazy and head to the beach a
little later, but the weather seems to be conspiring against me.
    I put my iPhone music on shuffle as I get ready to go and Adele’s “Skyfall”
starts playing.  It’s a beautiful song, but the tone is so solemn, I’m finding
it hard to get motivated. 
    Trudging to the bathroom, I try to wash away my somber state.  I turn on
the faucet and splash some cold water onto my face.  Scrutinizing myself in the
mirror, I attempt to see what Emmy sees.  Could this face be enough to capture
the interest of someone like Evan?  When I examine individual features, it’s
hard to find fault.  My teeth are white and straight thanks to years of braces
and orthodontic work.  My eyes are bright and alert, a shade of green that
dramatically contrasts with my brown hair.  There are no blemishes on my skin,
but a few freckles dot my shoulders.  My eyebrows are appropriately manicured
and my ears are not too large.  Collectively, I suppose one might consider me
attractive, but it’s hard to see in yourself what others claim to see.
    Maddy and I head to the beach and I park in my usual spot.  There are a
few cars here today, but a lot less than previously, surely due to the dreary
weather.  I don’t bother trying to guess which car, if any, belongs to Evan.  I
imagine his car is safely tucked away in his attached garage.
    Maddy and I walk down to the beach and warm up.  I sit on the ground and
start to stretch my ankles with an alphabet stretch.  It’s a warm-up exercise I
learned in soccer.  Normally, you’re supposed to point your toes into the air
and spell out the alphabet one letter at a time and in the process, help
relieve the residual ankle pain from my recent sprain.  My mood dictates my
decisions, and I start spelling E-V-A-N, then M-A-Y-B-E, and finally H-O-P-E. 
    Before starting my run, I check the horizon and there are no other
joggers in sight.  Now that I know exactly where Evan’s house is, I purposely
jog in that direction hoping to give fate another chance to intervene.  In no
time at all, I’m running right past his home, but there’s no sign of life.  The
doors and windows are all closed and I can’t tell if there are any lights on
inside.  I don’t let my eyes linger too long; I have to keep an eye on the
terrain this time.
    The prudent thing to do would be to make today’s run a short one. 
There’s no sense in pushing myself and chancing another injury.  The next one
might not heal as quickly.  After only fifteen minutes, I decide it’s time for
a break.  Maddy and I play a little fetch; I stretch my muscles and joints, and
again scan my surroundings.  No signs of life other than a few men with fishing
rods and some scavenging dirty seabirds.
    Disappointment settles in, and I resume my jog, heading back towards the
car.  Every few minutes, I peer towards Evan’s house and the closer I get the
more certain I am that someone is out on the deck.  At first, I can barely make
out the figure, but little by little, I begin to recognize the familiar
physique of Evan.  He even seems to be scanning the beach looking for
something, or someone.
    My mind is reeling.  Thoughts start filling my head.  What should I say
if he approaches me?  Suppose he invites me back in?  What if he asks for my
number?  What if he asks me on a date?  Then, it occurs to me ... what if he
doesn’t?
    I’m nearly to his beach house and I’m watching with one eye on the surf
and one eye on Evan.  I can see him watching me.  He’s wearing a hoodie so I
can’t see his beautiful face, but the shorts that hang low on his waist reveal
the fit muscular body that I recall vividly.  I raise my hand to wave to him,
but before I can get my arm above my head, Evan