Chapter 14

In the dimly lit dawn,Emma laced up her running shoes. The pre-dawn streets of Missoula whispered around her as she stepped out. The first light of dawn barely touched the sky, and the morning chill sent a shiver down her spine. She adjusted her jacket and scanned the quiet street, her breath forming small clouds in the crisp air. The familiar sight of Dan, standing tall and poised by his truck, was a beacon in the dim light.

It had been about a month since they started their morning runs together, a routine born from a moment of shared vulnerability. After a heartfelt conversation with Dan about her fears and the activities she had given up, he'd suggested they run together. Emma had mentioned her love for morning runs but also her hesitation to venture out alone when the streets were quiet. Dan's offer had quickly turned into their weekly ritual, providing not just safety but a shared space for encouragement and companionship.

As she approached, a gentle smile softened Dan"s rugged features. "Good morning. Ready for the run?" His voice held a warmth that eased the tightness in her chest, a comfort she had come to rely on in these early hours.

Emma nodded, appreciating the sense of calm he brought to her mornings. His company was not just reassuring but invigorating. He pushed her to her limits, encouraging her to run faster and longer, yet always mindful not to overextend her. "Definitely ready," she replied, her voice more assured than she felt.

They started at a comfortable pace, their footsteps synchronizing effortlessly. Emma focused on their breathing and the soft patter of their shoes against the pavement. Dan ran beside her, a silent guardian whose mere presence bolstered her confidence. She marveled at how he seemed to intuit her needs, slowing down when her breaths became labored or picking up the pace when her energy surged.

The streets of Missoula unfurled before them, a tapestry of awakening hues under the rising sun. Emma felt a surge of gratitude for these moments, for the sense of normalcy and strength Dan brought into her life. As they ran, she shared small details of her day. Her words flowed more freely than usual. Dan listened and hummed along. His eyes occasionally met hers with understanding.

With each stride, Emma felt her fears and anxieties recede, replaced by a growing sense of empowerment. In Dan"s company, she wasn"t just running from her past; she was sprinting toward a future where she was no longer defined by her trauma but instead by her resilience.

Getting in the running zone, that peaceful state of mind every runner knew and craved, her thoughts drifted back to the aftermath of an attack six months earlier in the hospital parking lot, an event that had profoundly shaken her.

Months later, after freezing and nearly having a panic attack in the face of an encounter she should have been easily able to handle and deescalate, she'd taken a step further in getting help and enrolled in the self-defense and kickboxing classes. She was taking steps, but the way she'd frozen that day still haunted her.

As she relived the incident in her mind, her feet, usually sure and steady, faltered mid-stride, a misstep born of distraction. She stumbled, her balance teetering precariously.

In an instant, Dan"s reflexes kicked in. His strong hand wrapped around her arm, steadying her with a firm, yet gentle grip. Emma found herself pulled close to him, their bodies mere inches apart. She looked up, her breath hitching slightly, meeting Dan"s concerned gaze.

For a fleeting moment, time was suspended. Emma"s heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts swirling in a mix of surprise and something deeper, an unspoken question hanging in the air between them.

The moment shattered as a biker whizzed past them, a blur of motion and sound, yelling something indistinct as they sped by. The interruption jolted them both, and Dan stepped back, releasing his hold on Emma. The connection, so intense and palpable seconds before, evaporated in the wake of the biker"s passing.

Emma stood there, slightly dazed, her heart still racing but not from the run. She searched Dan"s face, looking for a clue, a sign of what had almost happened. Had he been about to kiss her?

Damn it. She wanted him to kiss her. After that one overnight, he hadn't stayed with her, hadn't touched her—expect for adjusting her stance in the gym—and she would really, really like him to.

The question hung silently between them, unanswered, as they resumed their run. The normal rhythm of their strides slowly rebuilt the comfortable camaraderie they had always shared.

Unwilling to dwell on what could have happened, she focused on her goal. After her reaction, or should she say lack of reaction, to the aggressive man, she"d decided to up her training.

The Hawthorne Kickboxing Gym had become her sanctuary, a place where she traded her scrubs for gloves, transforming fear into strength. The smell of sweat and determination filled the air each day as she pushed her body beyond its limits, her fists striking the pads in a rhythmic dance of empowerment. When a kickboxing gala was announced, she'd jumped in and signed up for a fight. This time she would fight back and see the attack coming.

She"d also signed up for private lessons and maintained her weekly group training. She'd even began working on her stamina and endurance with Dan. Jack"s guidance in private lessons was invaluable. His instructions were a blend of discipline and understanding. But it was the runs with Dan, in the quiet solitude of dawn, that strengthened her spirit. His presence was both comforting and enigmatic, a source of support she couldn"t quite decipher. Their bond deepened with each shared mile, each shared silence, yet there remained an unspoken distance, a barrier she couldn"t cross.

Her colleagues at the hospital had no idea about her new pursuit. In the sterilized corridors, she was Dr. Sullivan, composed and professional. But in the gym and with Dan, she was Emma, raw and unguarded, shedding layers of restraint with each punch and kick.

* * *

Dan stood outside Emma"s home, his breath forming misty clouds in the crisp morning air. He watched as she disappeared inside, a part of him yearning to cross that threshold into her world. Yet, he held back, his feet rooted to the spot, an internal battle raging within him.

He longed to follow and leave behind the doubts that weighed on his mind. But he hesitated, held back by the knowledge of his own nature. He was a Dom, and he knew he could be pushy, overwhelming a poor subby. In the world of BDSM, consent was paramount, and the initiative should come from her.

So, he would hold back from barging into her home and life. Integrating in the sideline, though. Yes, he would definitely do that. Because Emma Sullivan was perfect for him, even if he as far from flawless himself.

With a heavy sigh, Dan acknowledged the harsh reality of their situation. Emma might see him as a trainer, a friend, perhaps even a confidant, but despite their one sexy, uninhibited encounter, he doubted she saw him as anything more.

Dan"s thoughts drifted to the night of the car crash, the way Emma had responded to his touch, the softness of her lips under his. But then, the memory soured as he recalled how she stiffened, how she retreated into herself, walls rising around her. It was a pattern he had come to recognize, a dance of closeness followed by withdrawal.

He sighed, a deep, heavy sound that carried his frustration and longing. Emma might like him, he could sense that much. There might even be a physical attraction between them. But deep down, he knew the bitter truth. She would never consider anything more with him. Not in this lifetime. Not with someone like him, marked by his past, labeled as white trash.

Dan turned away from her house, his heart heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. The memory of her in his arms, both after the crash and in the fleeting moment during their run, was a sharp contrast to the reality he now faced. He was just Dan, the kickboxing trainer, the man from the wrong side of the tracks. And she was Emma, the doctor, the woman whose world he could never fully be a part of.

With each step he took away from her house, the distance between what he wanted and what he believed he could have grew wider. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the weight of his thoughts, the cold morning air a mere echo of the chill settling in his heart.