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Yeah, not touching her at the end of this is going to be a huge challenge. I have to get so stinky and sweaty she won't want to touch me.
To show off again, I drop to plank and slowly lift my feet in the air, resting all my weight on my palms.
"Oh my God! How do you do that?" She laughs and stands up straight.
I drop my feet and bust out some double-clap push ups as she watches. I stand up and wipe the parking lot gravel from my hands. "Easy."
"I want to learn to do that," she says.
"Lots of practice, but you can do it."
She nods and bites her lower lip. She's setting it as a goal, I can see it in her eyes. My girl likes a challenge.
"Ready?"
"Yeah."
"We'll do about two miles out in the sand and two back. Can you handle that?" It's a short run for me but probably a challenge for her.
She glances out to the shore and the tiny waves rolling in. "Can we swim instead?"
I shake my head. "Nope. Not swimming. Told you you're on your own."
She laughs and stares at me like she can convince me with her devious eyes. Not gonna work. Truth is I could swim in the ocean, I just don't want to stress myself out. Always have trouble breathing and get close to panicking. If I could control the panic, I could swim. With her around, as amped up on adrenaline as I am around her, I'd choke and go under for sure.
"Next time?" she asks me, not giving up.
"No," I answer firmly like I did last night. Not swimming with Mila. No way. If I'm going to overcome my fear, it's going to be somewhere far away from her where she can't see me struggling and looking stupid. Never again.
"Let's go." I jog out of the lot onto the sand.
She hesitates a second then runs out behind me. We run side-by-side at a pretty good pace for the two miles out. The warm wind and salty air blowing on our skin, the sun shining on her face. Best day of my life, running with Mila on Callihan's beach.
We rest at the end and catch our breath. She bends over with her hands on her knees.
"Need to slow down?" I ask her.
"No." She's panting now and her skin is red and dripping sweat. "No. I can do it." Sexy as hell.
Once again, my Mila is a fighter. She won't give up. Awesome. Not what I expected from her at all. I guess I expectedher to be prissy and worried about her nails and shit. I was wrong. Happily wrong. Mila is a warrior. I could see us working out every day like this together. Pushing each other.
"You're gonna be sore tomorrow," I warn her.
"Don't care. Not giving up." She stands and wipes the hair from her eyes and I want to kiss her. Nope. Not kissing her. Holding back. Holding back. Can't remember why right now, but I know I'm holding back.
"Let's head back." I take off running back to the cars.
About two hundred yards into our run, a dog slides up next to us and starts running with us. His fur is wet and scruffy. He looks like a mutt. His leash drags behind him towing sand.
We slow down and he jumps at her legs, barking for us to keep running. "Oh my God, you are so cute." She stops and scrubs his wet, sandy hair. "What are you doing out here alone?" She checks his collar but there's no tag.
"Is he a stray?" I ask her.
"I don't know. What do we do?"
There's a few people on the beach we could ask. "Follow me."
We walk the dog over to a family on the beach. They say he's not theirs.
