Читать книгу Wednesday Walks & Wags - Melissa Storm - Страница 12

Chapter 6

Bridget slept much better that night. Of course, every time she inadvertently kicked or stretched, pain shot though her no-longer-jellied legs. She briefly allowed herself to wonder what had happened to Wesley and why he had disappeared so abruptly without saying goodbye, but she was honestly too tired to care much about it—or him.

The exhaustion spread through her body like a calming drug, leaving her too tired to move, to think, to feel anything other than the exhaustion from that night’s run.

And she loved it.

So when five-thirty rolled around the next evening, she was dressed and waiting in the courtyard with Baby and Rosco tied to a joint lead.

If Wesley was surprised to see her there, he didn’t show it in the slightest. “How many dogs do you have in there?” he asked, glancing toward her third-floor window.

“Just the three,” she said, then took off running before he could beat her to it.

Wesley let out some kind of grunt-laugh hybrid as he fell into stride behind Bridget. “I thought you had your fill yesterday,” he teased without adding even the slightest hint of a smile.

“You thought wrong,” she shot back, picking up speed despite the unhappy protest that had already settled into her previously unpracticed muscles.

He shook his head and muttered something to himself, but Bridget didn’t care to ask him to repeat it. She wasn’t here for him. She was here for herself and for her dogs. Whether or not Wesley liked or respected her was beside the point, really.

The run went by faster that evening. Even though it hurt even more than the day before, she could already breathe easier. It was amazing how fast progress became evident with this new hobby of hers.

She both loved and hated it at the same time, and apparently that was just the combination she needed to obsess over it. And that new infatuation was perfect for pushing grief out of her mind—at least for the duration of the run.

Once again, her legs screamed for relief, but today she found the pain exhilarating rather than irritating. That pain served as proof she’d pushed herself hard, that she could overcome challenges, that she would overcome them.

Running wasn’t the first hobby Bridget would have chosen for herself. Actually, it fell a lot closer to the end of her hypothetical hobby list than the beginning. Regardless, though, she’d happened into it, and she couldn’t stop now.

That just wasn’t how she was wired.

She also wasn’t wired to let things go.

“Why’d you leave without saying goodbye yesterday?” she demanded of Wesley when they returned to the courtyard and he started moving into his cooldown routine. Oops. So much for not caring about what he thought of her.

“Did I?” he asked, kicking one leg behind himself and then grabbing his foot to deepen the stretch. He didn’t even look at Bridget, but rather toward the yellowing grass below.

“Yes,” she said, trying to imitate one of his stretches as she stared him straight in the eye. Eventually, he’d look toward her again, and she’d be ready with a heated glare that rivaled his icy indifference. “And you know it.”

“Are you planning on running with me every night now?” Wesley shifted his gaze toward her but didn’t react to the expression he found waiting for him.

Did this guy have no emotions at all? Or just when it came to Bridget? Whatever the case, his lack of reaction bothered her. How could he nothing her when he hardly knew her? The jerk.

“Is that not allowed?” she hissed. “When you gave me that invite, I thought you meant it.”

He sighed and dug his fingers into the thick fur of his all-white dog. Bridget recognized Snow as a malamute now, an enormous one at that. She wondered if Snow had a past life as a wheel dog for the Iditarod. He certainly looked strong enough, and he was much better behaved than her own hyperactive canines. That fact also irritated her. So what if her dogs weren’t the best trained? They were the best loved, and that’s what really counted.

Wesley looked at his dog as he spoke. “Look, Bridget. Right? We can run together, but I’m not really looking to make friends here.”

“If you don’t want friends, then why did you even invite me to join you?” She grew short of breath again, but this time from outrage rather than exercise. True, she didn’t want to make friends, either—but that wasn’t something you just told people. At least she was trying to be polite. Why couldn’t Wesley offer her the same small courtesy?

Wesley shrugged and continued to focus on Snow as he stroked the dog’s thick double coat. “I don’t know. It seemed like the neighborly thing to do, and you kind of caught me off guard there.”

“Me? You’re the one who came into my work,” she reminded him. “If you don’t want me to run with you, just say so.”

Wesley shook his head as he looked up at her. “Fine. I don’t want you to run with me. At least not if you’re going to keep trying to have heartfelt talks at the end of each one.”

Seriously? They’d only run together twice, and she’d barely spoken to him either time.

“Heartfelt? Are you kidding me?” Bridget knew she should throw her hands up and walk away, but something kept her rooted to the spot. She shouldn’t let him get to her, especially when he could barely look at her, let alone speak to her with even a hint of kindness.

Wesley cleared his throat, but before he could speak again, Bridget launched into a tirade as all the stress she’d kept at bay with that night’s exercise therapy came tearing out of her in a jagged burst.

“Don’t worry. I’m not some desperate girl begging for a friend. I already have the three best friends in the whole world, so why would I chase after some wishy-washy, lying jerk?” There, she’d given him what he deserved. Now it was time to move on.

His eyes rose to meet hers, the usual sky blue of his iris almost aqua now. It softened his entire face, but it was also too late. “I didn’t mean to—”

“But you did,” Bridget spat. “Don’t worry. I won’t bother you anymore.” She wasn’t sure whether Wesley wanted to respond, but she spun on her heel and marched away with her chin held high in the air.