Page 34 of Get Me to the Starting Line
“You look like a jackass.”
She may think I’m a jackass, but her flush betrays her obvious attraction. Her gaze flicks down, taking in the shirt that’s clinging to my body. I don’t even need to flex because my muscles are swollen from the workout. When she looks back up, redness flares in her cheeks.
I smirk purely to piss her off. She opens her beautiful, annoying mouth, most likely to spew some other accusation, but she’s stopped by Paige and Adam, who are a little flushed as they enter the gym. When I glance at the clock, I realize Paige has been gone for almost twenty minutes.
“Hey, sorry. We, uh, got caught up,” Adam says by way of greeting.
Leah rolls her eyes at Paige. “Again?”
Paige beams. “Sorry not sorry?”
I have no idea what’s going on. I’m missing something.
Adam clears his throat. “You ready, Leah?”
“Yup.”
“Great. Julien, you should come to dinner with us,” Adam says when Paige and Leah turn to walk away. At his invitation, I freeze, as does Leah. I’m not sure either of them notices.
“I, uh ...” I trail off, sounding more and more unintelligible.
“I’m sure he’s busy. He probably has to take an hour-long shower to wash all those muscles,” Leah says. I can’t tell if she’s teasing or not, her face impassive.
Maybe I was lying to Leah before. That, or she impairs my ability to think through my words. “I’m free.”
I’minHell.
This is Hell, right? Sitting in the tiniest booth known to mankind, I desperately try not to make any contact with the small woman next to me. The woman who is practically shooting daggers at me with her eyes.
“What did you say?” she asks, her voice calm. I don’t trust it.
“This is not looking good for you, Jules,” Paige whispers helpfully from the other side of the table.
I know it’s a trap of some kind, but I don’t see how what I said was wrong. Though I know she heard me, I say it again anyway.
“C-Can you eat all that?”
“Man, when a woman asks you that, it’s an opportunity to change what you said,” Adam chips in, shaking his head.
That would’ve been helpful to know before I repeated myself.
“I’ll have you know”—Leah turns to me fully, our knees touching under the table—“I plan on eating every. Single. Bite.” She punctuates each word with her index finger, jabbing the table. The cutlery rattles with the force. Damn.
Realization dawns. “Oh, is it because you’ve been—”
Leah cuts me off, turning to her sister. “How is wedding planning coming along? Anything else I can help you with?”
If Paige is skeptical of Leah’s interruption, she doesn’t show it as the two women launch into a conversation about colour schemes, table decorations, and whatever else wedding planning entails.
Adam, however, tilts his head curiously but doesn’t ask. He knows better by now—if I don’t offer information, it does no good to ask me for it. I do wonder why Leah would cut me off. Running isn’t a secret, is it?
And besides, I wasn’t insulting her by asking about her food. I was genuinely impressed by what she ordered, and given how small her body is, it’s hard to believe she could eat an entire platter of nachos the menu said feeds four people. Where does it all go?
The rest of the meal slips by, and I get roped into the wedding conversation, adding nods and headshakes when necessary. I’ve learned the wedding will be next fall—October, Paige and Adam’s favourite month—and the colour scheme is fall jewel tones. Whatever that means.
Apparently, the groomsmen will be wearing burnt-orange suits. What the hell is burnt orange? Whatever that colour is, Paige says it will go well with my darker skin tone. When Leah nods, my heart gives a little flip, obscuring the feeling of discomfort I usually experience in public.
When we finish up dinner, Paige and Adam say they have “things” to do and make a swift exit, promising to make up for dining and dashing.
