the side. Her stomach pitched, fear paralyzing her breath.
And then a little girl ran across the wet concrete with open arms and the man smiled, hoisting her up.
Not Barry.
Grace stumbled back into someone running the track around the weight machines. She mumbled an apology. Not Barry. Not Barry. Stupid, stupid mistake.
She closed her eyes, sucked in a breath. Well, seeing Barry where he wasn’t hadn’t happened since the trial. Grace opened her eyes, squinted at her shoes. She let out her breath, took another, easier this time.
Regression. Plain and simple. Unacceptable.
Grace took to the track and began to run. Hard. Eventually she would exhaust herself enough so the panic and fear and worry that this feeling would always be a part of her life would disappear.
Or at least hide away for a while.
Her lungs burned, her already tired muscles screamed, but Grace kept running. She wasn’t going to stop until the pain drowned out everything.
* * *
K YLE CRESTED THE STAIRS , hoping Grace would want to stick around at least another thirty minutes so he could get some spinning in. He was toying with the idea of doing a Half Ironman in October, and he’d need to pick up the pace of his training.
Which wouldn’t be all that hard with Grace underfoot. Exercise was far more appealing than enduring any more alone time with her. Somehow, it always ended up with him flustered, revealing too much. And worse was when she showed a hint of vulnerability. He didn’t like what it brought out in him, this strange need to help and commiserate and smile. Worst of all, smile.
Kyle didn’t commiserate and he didn’t let people into the dark places of his mind, so it was best to avoid Grace as much as possible.
He scanned the machines, looking for Grace’s rainbow-streaked ponytail and that ridiculously yellow, ridiculously tight exercise shirt she’d been wearing. He didn’t see her on any of the machines, but he caught a bullet of yellow out of the corner of his eye.
She was running the track. Hard. His stomach did a sickening slow roll when he saw her expression. When he recognized it as panic and fear.
He should know. He saw that expression enough in the mirror. Not knowing what he was going to say, Kyle still found himself taking to the track and running until he caught up with her.
When he fell into step next to her, she actually flinched, stumbling over her feet a little. He reached out to steady her, but she jerked away.
“What are you doing?” she huffed out, not bothering to slow down once she’d regained her footing. Her face was red, her words barely audible through the gusts of breath she was sucking in and letting out.
“Take a break, Grace.” Good Lord, how long had she been going at this pace? The breakneck speed was enough to have even a seasoned runner like him exert a lot of effort.
“Nope.” But she began to slow. It took a while, another two laps, and then she was down to a normal pace. “What are you doing?” she repeated, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped down her temples, and her chest heaved with the effort to breathe.
“Hoping to keep you from having a heart attack.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, a shot of temper so unlike her.
She looked so close to breaking down he was afraid sympathy might lead to the possibility of tears, and he was not at all comfortable with that. So he went for a different reaction instead. “Don’t be obnoxious.”
She stopped dead in her tracks so quickly he almost toppled over trying to stop with her.
The outrage on her face was short-lived, morphing into eyes filling with tears and a quivering lip.
Crap. Wrong tactic.
“I’m not done yet.” She put her hands on her hips and took a deep hitching breath. “I’m not done yet.”
He took a step away from her. Just leave her alone, his mind instructed. “All right.” But his feet didn’t listen to his mind, because he didn’t take any more steps away.
“I just need...” Her voice hitched, but
And then a little girl ran across the wet concrete with open arms and the man smiled, hoisting her up.
Not Barry.
Grace stumbled back into someone running the track around the weight machines. She mumbled an apology. Not Barry. Not Barry. Stupid, stupid mistake.
She closed her eyes, sucked in a breath. Well, seeing Barry where he wasn’t hadn’t happened since the trial. Grace opened her eyes, squinted at her shoes. She let out her breath, took another, easier this time.
Regression. Plain and simple. Unacceptable.
Grace took to the track and began to run. Hard. Eventually she would exhaust herself enough so the panic and fear and worry that this feeling would always be a part of her life would disappear.
Or at least hide away for a while.
Her lungs burned, her already tired muscles screamed, but Grace kept running. She wasn’t going to stop until the pain drowned out everything.
* * *
K YLE CRESTED THE STAIRS , hoping Grace would want to stick around at least another thirty minutes so he could get some spinning in. He was toying with the idea of doing a Half Ironman in October, and he’d need to pick up the pace of his training.
Which wouldn’t be all that hard with Grace underfoot. Exercise was far more appealing than enduring any more alone time with her. Somehow, it always ended up with him flustered, revealing too much. And worse was when she showed a hint of vulnerability. He didn’t like what it brought out in him, this strange need to help and commiserate and smile. Worst of all, smile.
Kyle didn’t commiserate and he didn’t let people into the dark places of his mind, so it was best to avoid Grace as much as possible.
He scanned the machines, looking for Grace’s rainbow-streaked ponytail and that ridiculously yellow, ridiculously tight exercise shirt she’d been wearing. He didn’t see her on any of the machines, but he caught a bullet of yellow out of the corner of his eye.
She was running the track. Hard. His stomach did a sickening slow roll when he saw her expression. When he recognized it as panic and fear.
He should know. He saw that expression enough in the mirror. Not knowing what he was going to say, Kyle still found himself taking to the track and running until he caught up with her.
When he fell into step next to her, she actually flinched, stumbling over her feet a little. He reached out to steady her, but she jerked away.
“What are you doing?” she huffed out, not bothering to slow down once she’d regained her footing. Her face was red, her words barely audible through the gusts of breath she was sucking in and letting out.
“Take a break, Grace.” Good Lord, how long had she been going at this pace? The breakneck speed was enough to have even a seasoned runner like him exert a lot of effort.
“Nope.” But she began to slow. It took a while, another two laps, and then she was down to a normal pace. “What are you doing?” she repeated, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped down her temples, and her chest heaved with the effort to breathe.
“Hoping to keep you from having a heart attack.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, a shot of temper so unlike her.
She looked so close to breaking down he was afraid sympathy might lead to the possibility of tears, and he was not at all comfortable with that. So he went for a different reaction instead. “Don’t be obnoxious.”
She stopped dead in her tracks so quickly he almost toppled over trying to stop with her.
The outrage on her face was short-lived, morphing into eyes filling with tears and a quivering lip.
Crap. Wrong tactic.
“I’m not done yet.” She put her hands on her hips and took a deep hitching breath. “I’m not done yet.”
He took a step away from her. Just leave her alone, his mind instructed. “All right.” But his feet didn’t listen to his mind, because he didn’t take any more steps away.
“I just need...” Her voice hitched, but
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