Chapter 4

4

JASON

JULY

A bead of sweat ran down my temple as I entered my second mile of the morning. It wasn't even seven o'clock and temperatures were already in the upper seventies, with a predicted high near one hundred. Anything above sixty was hotter than I liked for running, but it was the humidity that really made it unbearable this morning. June had been unseasonably hot and humid for Nebraska, and it looked like July was only going to get worse, but if I wanted to be in shape for my EMT training in the fall, I would have to push past the discomfort.

In truth, I was surprised by how much I actually enjoyed running. After adjusting to the early morning wakeup—the time necessary to avoid the blazing hot temperatures—I'd discovered something gratifying in the solitude of watching the world come alive. Sometimes, I ran through my neighborhood, but more often than not, I found myself driving down to the lake to run on the paved trail that snaked its way around the perimeter. There was just something about it that fed my soul and made me feel alive.

I concentrated on my breathing, knowing I needed to pace myself if I was going to make it to my five-mile goal in this heat. I didn't see Zach until he was practically on top of me. He came around a bend in the path, his expression focused on the pavement in front of him as he breathed in and out in a steady rhythm. I hadn't seen him since the night of the bonfire. But I'd caught myself thinking about him at the oddest moments, wondering how he was doing, how he was handling the pressure of his soccer career with his dad breathing down his neck.

When he caught sight of me, his face lit with a smile as he tapped his earbud. We slowed to a stop, and I bent at the knees, trying to catch my breath, while Zach took a drink from his water bottle. He offered it to me, and I took it gratefully, having forgotten mine at home. I handed the bottle back to him, and he eyed me up and down, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tipped his head back and drank.

"I wouldn't have taken you for a runner." He swiped his hand across his mouth.

I quirked a brow. "Why not? I was a two-sport athlete."

"Yeah, but you're built like a tank."

"Big guys can run. It's not just for skinny guys like you." I knew I was a big guy, just like I knew he was flipping me shit. But that didn't mean I couldn't flip him some right back.

"Skinny? That's some bullshit right there."

He wasn't wrong. He did have a slender frame, but it was packed with the kind of muscle that came from training at an elite level. I had no doubt he could kick my ass if it came down to a footrace.

Laughing, I shook my head at his mock outrage. "How many more miles you got?"

He looked at his watch. "Three-ish. You wanna run together?"

"Sure. If you think you can keep up." I flashed a shit-eating grin.

"We'll see about that," he said, turning to run back in the direction he'd come from.

We set out at a relatively easy pace, feeling each other out as we fell into a comfortable rhythm. His posture was loose and relaxed despite the heat, showing just how in shape he was, while I did my best to concentrate on my breathing and not make an ass of myself.

I'd played football and baseball for as long as I could remember, and I sometimes swam laps before my lifeguarding shift, so I wasn't exactly out of shape. But running long distances took a different type of endurance, and I was still working up to it.

"I haven't seen you around much lately," I said when I'd found a comfortable enough rhythm that I could talk.

"I've been in the city coaching a soccer camp."

I didn't know what I'd expected, but that wasn't it. "Do you like it? Coaching?"

"It kind of depends on the age I'm working with. The first week I was working with seven- and eight year-olds. They're kind of cute, but they drive me a little nuts. This last week, I worked with middle school kids, and surprisingly, they were pretty fun."

Zach swiped his forearm across his brow before he continued, "They're dumbasses for the most part, but they make me laugh. And while they act like they don't care, they're actually pretty eager to learn and get better. At least, when they're not trying to one-up each other."

I wasn't looking directly at him as he spoke, my eyes focused on the path in front of me, but there was a thread of pleasure in his tone. Excitement that I hadn't heard the last time we spoke.

He'd seemed out of sorts that night at the overlook, contrary to the persona he'd carried our senior year. He'd always seemed so laidback, like nothing ever phased him. Friendly. Always wore a smile. The teachers and our classmates liked him. I suspected the side I'd seen last month was one he rarely let anyone else see.

"Have you ever thought about coaching? Like as a profession?"

I felt rather than saw him shrug beside me. "I don't know. Maybe? I haven't really thought about it."

Something in his voice made me think he wasn't giving me the full picture, but I didn't push. I was sure he had his reasons.

"What about you? You lifeguard, right? You ever give swim lessons? Or coach Little League?"

"I've never taught swim lessons or coached, but I've reffed baseball and hated it. The kids were fine, but some of the parents were jackasses. The last straw was when I had to eject a dad because he got up in my face over a call. His kid was in the 8U league. Most of those kids barely know which way to run to first base and are more excited about what kind of snack they'll get afterward, but this dad took everything way too seriously. He'd been hollerin' at me the whole game, but when I called a strike on his kid, he lost his shit. Came over, got in my face, and started yelling. It took both coaches to get him off the field. It was ridiculous."

Zach was quiet for a moment but then said, "My dad can be like that sometimes. He's gotten ejected a couple of times. It's embarrassing as fuck."

"That sucks, man. I'm sorry."

"It's one of the reasons I wanted to go to school on the coast. Makes it harder for Dad to come to my games. He's loaded, so I'm sure he'll fly out for some of them, but at least it puts some space between us. I just need room to breathe."

It was the second time he'd opened up to me about his issues with his dad. Either he wasn't as private as I'd thought, or he'd decided that it was too hard to stuff everything back in since he'd opened up already.

We came around a bend in the path and had to go single file to avoid a large puddle. I thought to change the subject to something lighter, but he continued before I could, "I'm worried about my sister. She's had…a tough couple of years, and Dad's not quite as hard on her with her dancing as he is with me and the soccer, mostly because I don't think he understands the dance world, but he still pushes. At least with me here, his focus is divided, but with me gone…"

He'd mentioned his grandparents lived in other parts of the country, and I'd never heard him talk about his mom. I figured there was a reason, so I didn't bring it up. "Do you think she'd call or text you if shit got bad? Or maybe she'd talk to my sister? They're pretty tight, I think."

"I don't know. I mean, yeah, I think they're pretty good friends from what Drea's told me, but I'm not sure how much she'd open up if she's having a hard time. She's really good at putting on a happy face for the world while underneath it all, she's drowning."

I gave him the side-eye. "Must run in the family," I said before I thought better of it.

Thankfully, he snorted a laugh. "Yeah, maybe. At least with everyone else. You seem to be able to get me talking."

"Me? I didn't do anything."

"I don't know. There's just something about you. You're easy to talk to."

We came around another bend and the path took a sharp turn to the left. Stairs cut up the hill leading into the neighborhood that backed up to this section of the lake. Most of the lake was for public use, but this quarter-mile section of shoreline was private. The neighborhood wasn't gated, so it was perfectly fine to cut up the stairs and run on the sidewalks through the community until it sent you back down to the lake on the other side. I typically turned around at this point and headed back in the direction I'd come from instead.

I started to do just that, but Zach stopped me.

"You don't want to go this way?"

I shrugged, taking a moment to catch my breath. "I usually turn around and head back at this point."

"Come on. We can stop by my house, and I'll get you a bottle of water."

"You live in this neighborhood?"

"That's my house down there." He pointed a little way down the shoreline. "The white one, three houses down."

The backside of the house he pointed at was almost entirely glass, with windows stretching up two stories. It sat on a bit of land that jutted into the water with a dock stretching out into the lake. A boat sat in a covered slip on one side of the dock and a pair of Adirondack chairs sat at the end. I thought it would be a pretty spectacular place to catch the fireworks this evening.

Realizing I'd been staring and hadn't responded to Zach's question, I turned to face him. "Sure, we can head up that way."

He smiled, then led the way up the stairs to the sidewalk along the road. We didn't bother to jog since his house was just a little way down, and I appreciated the opportunity to catch my breath. Five miles in this heat had been an ambitious goal, but I'd wanted to keep up with him.

I tried not to gape as I took in the front side of the house. There weren't nearly as many windows on this side, but it was no less impressive. This side of the house was mostly stone in shades of gray mixed in with large beams stained a dark espresso color. My eye was immediately drawn to the entrance, which featured a vaulted covered entry in what I thought I'd heard called Craftsman style on one of my mom's HGTV shows. It was tall enough to drive a car under and had one of those driveways that curved from one side of the yard across to the other.

"You coming?" Zach asked with a small smile. Despite my efforts not to gawk, my steps had slowed as I'd taken it all in.

I ducked my head, feeling awkward at getting caught staring. "Sorry. Your house is…nice," I finished lamely, the word completely underrepresenting the impressiveness of it.

He chuckled. "My dad's a lawyer. I have no idea what kind, but he makes a shit-ton of money and spends more time at work than at home, which is fine with me because it's easier on all of us that way."

He said all this with a smile as we stepped into the house, but my heart sank. It made me sad to know that his relationship with his father was so bad he'd rather not see him. I may not live in a house quite this impressive, but we were comfortable, and more importantly, I knew the people in that house cared about me. We cared about each other.

I kicked off my shoes by the door and followed him through the living room into the kitchen. The whole area was completely open, with ceilings that rose to a peak running from the front of the house to the back, where windows made up an entire wall of glass overlooking a good-sized deck, lower patio, and the lake beyond. I stepped up to admire the view, watching as a lone paddle boarder pushed through the water into the center of the lake.

I jolted and let out a hiss as Zach tapped my shoulder with a cold water bottle. "Jesus," I exclaimed, turning toward him. He laughed and held the water out to me. I shook my head but smiled as I took it from him. It was nice to see this playful side of him again. It was more in line with the persona he'd put forth all school year, and while I suspected it was a front to hide some deeper side of himself, his smile was nice to see.

"You going to the bonfire at the mayor's tonight?" he asked between gulps of water. "I've heard the fireworks are amazing over the lake."

"You didn't see them last year?"

"We moved in about a week after the Fourth."

"They're pretty awesome. Though I've never seen them from the mayor's house. We usually go out to the farm and set some off ourselves, or we watch from the other side of the lake."

"You should come with me. It'll be fun."

A weird little thrum of energy ran through me. He was smiling at me, but there was an intensity in his eyes that had me locked in his gaze. "Yeah, I could come. I don't think my parents have decided what their plans are just yet."

"Ugh, it's too early." Zach's sister walked into the kitchen, pulling her long, auburn hair into a messy bun. I usually ignored my sister's friends when they were over at the house, so I didn't think I'd spoken more than a few words to Drea before, but I definitely recognized her as one of the girls who frequently hung out with my sister. She squinted at the light streaming in the window behind us and scrunched her nose. "You guys stink. And you're dripping sweat all over the floor. Boys are so gross."

She reached into one of the cabinets, pulled out a bowl, and then disappeared inside the pantry. We could hear her muttering as she rummaged around then finally came out with a box of Lucky Charms. "You're still here? Shouldn't you be showering or something?"

"Drea is not a morning person," Zach said, stating the obvious. If a glare could do bodily harm, he'd be in the ICU, though he seemed impervious. "You want to finish our run?"

"Actually, if you don't mind, can you give me a ride back to my car? I'm gonna run home, shower, and check in with my parents. What time does the thing at the mayor's start?"

"I think it starts at three, but we can head over whenever."

"Let me talk to my folks and get back?—"

"Are you coming tonight? To the mayor's?"

I looked over at Drea, whose face had transformed into hopeful anticipation.

"Yeah, probably…" My eyes darted between Zach and Drea in confusion. I wasn't sure why she'd taken a sudden interest in my plans with her brother.

"You're Mandy's brother, right? Can you bring her with you? Otherwise, I'm going to die of boredom making small talk with a bunch of rich assholes. Please! Please! Please!"

Zach rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "God, you're so dramatic sometimes."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I can bring Mandy."

"Yes!" she exclaimed, then tore down the hallway, leaving her half-eaten bowl of cereal sitting on the counter.

"Sisters, right?"

I chuckled and followed him out to his car.