Page 38 of Your Pace Or Mine

“Well, let’s cook.”

She seems a bit jittery, fiddling with her hair. Both of us are quiet, like we’re unsure where we stand. I suppose we’ll get to that later, but for now I help whip pancake batter and we make breakfast together, goofing around, making a mess, but enjoying each other’s company.

“So, guess what my mom asked me on Friday,” I say as we’re settling into our breakfast.

Ashley screws up her face like she’s pretending to think hard. “When you’re going to settle down and get a girlfriend? Hope springs eternal.”

It’s nice to be with someone who doesn’t try to fix me, but I didn’t mean to go in that direction. “Well, of course, but that’s not news. She asked if I’m going to run a race like one of those charity 5K runs. I go running a couple of times, and she’s got me doing marathons.”

Ashley shakes her head. “Um, a marathon is a lot longer than five kilometers.”

I should probably know how long that is, but until this moment, that number seemed irrelevant. “Obviously I know that. It’s more like twenty, right?”

“Forty-two point two.”

I drop my fork. Now that I’ve run a few kilometers straight, the concept of doing more than ten times that distance seems insane. “God, that sounds like torture. Have you actually done one of those?”

“No, only a couple of half marathons. Cal did one, though.”

Of course, Cal is both an endurance superstar and emotionally secure. I kind of hate him. “Only a half marathon. So only twenty-one kilometers. You’re such a slacker, Ash.”

“Don’t forget the last hundred meters. That matters when you’re close to the end,” she declares, then gives me an appraising look, which I ignore as I go back to my pancakes. “But you could do a five. There are some races coming up. You should sign up. We’ll do it together.”

The idea of running among all those people, being passed by men my dad’s age, doesn’t sound appealing. But maybe if it was a team effort it wouldn’t be so awful.

She grabs my arm, and I’m distracted by how soft her hands are. “You and Seth should sign up for one and raise money for charity. Do it as a promotional thing for the app. It’ll look good.”

Seth and Diana sometimes jog on the weekends. Not as intensely as Ash and her friends, but they’re fit. “Maybe, but I’ll have to talk to him.”

“You could do the Pride Run in June. It’s not super competitive, plus the vibe is good and it supports local LGBTQ charities. Think about it.”

“I’ll mention it to Seth,” I promise. I’ve been trying to support LGBTQ organizations since Penny came out when she was in university. “Maybe that will distract my mom from my love life.”

“Aha, so she did nag you.” Ashley gives me a pitying look.

I shrug, not wanting to mention Brianna or how my mom keeps alluding to that disaster. If that epic failure isn’t proof that relationships and I don’t go together, nothing is. I try never to think about my ex. About the way she looked at me like I was something special when we first met, like she saw more in me than I did, but how a few months together changed her.

“You know my mom,” I say, staring into my coffee cup as I try to banish those memories. Then, because anything is better than going down that road, I clear my throat and head straight into the belly of the beast. “So should we talk about …”

She looks down at her empty plate, understanding my meaning. “Us, you mean.”

“Well, yeah.”

Ashley plays with her fork and won’t meet my gaze. “Why do we need to? I told you it didn’t have to mean anything. That’s what you want, right?”

I grab her hand as I notice it shaking nervously. “I like what we have, our friendship.”

“And you don’t do romantic relationships.”

Even though I’ve been rolling my eyes about how I wish my mom understood this, it feels wrong in this context, like I’m somehow saying Ashley isn’t enough. But it’s true that I don’t want to date anyone long-term. “Right.”

“So, what’s the problem? Sex can just be sex.” She finally looks at me as if she’s trying to convince both of us that she can remain as detached as I can.

I don’t know how to put it into words. I do want this friendship and I don’t want a girlfriend and I definitely enjoy hooking up with Ashley. How can all those truths fit together? It’s harder to put everything back into the box this time. “It’s just, we didn’t discuss it last time, and now here we are,” I say. “If this is going to keep happening, we’ll have to talk about it some time.”

“What makes you think—” She cuts herself off when we lock eyes. Yeah, I can’t say it won’t happen again. Or that I’m not thinking about it happening again, even now when I know I should be closing that door. There’s something about being with Ashley, the ease in talking with her, the way we get each other like no one else does. A glance at her tousled hair and plump pink lips makes me forget all the reasons this is still a bad idea.

She gives me a wry smile and says, “We’re sure good at one thing.”