Worth the Fall (17 page)

I looked up at the screen wondering if that was a real thing.

“But,” he continued, “after about ten minutes you don’t even notice them. You just start reading along and watching the action at the same time.”

I love how he was still talking to me as if I’d never seen a subtitled film before. It was basically calling me a liar. Not that I hadn’t lied, but still. He didn’t know that.

The lights dropped and the screen filled with the first trailer. I handed Max the rest of the popcorn and eased back in my chair ready to—hopefully—enjoy the next ninety minutes.

On the upside, in a dark theater Max couldn’t mock or scowl at me, so it had to be better than the walk here.

~~*~~

Before the lights came back up, I shoved the tear-drenched tissues back into my bag, hoping Max didn’t notice.

That was by far one of the most moving things I’d ever seen. I couldn’t believe I was missing out on all these potential amazing stories because I’d never seen a foreign film before.

Mom had held on to her bitterness and used it as an excuse to not try new things. The new things were behind her because of giving up on them to marry my dad. It was easier to not move forward.

Then, Jason had always said if he wanted to read, he’d get a book.
 

So, yeah.

We stood, Max picking up our trash and stuffing it in his empty popcorn bag. I should have known he wouldn’t leave it sitting there. Jason always had and made fun of me for cleaning up after us. I don’t care if someone is paid to do it. My trash is my trash.
 

We made our way out of the theater behind the small group of people who thankfully did not include Annoyed Dale and his wife, Jeannine.

“So, are we walking home together, or should I give you a head start and pretend I don’t know you.”

“Don’t be silly.”
 

Max just quirked an eyebrow at me and held the door open. “So, were those tears of empathy from how Simone ended her days or of joy that it was finally over?”

So, not so sneaky with the tissues. Bummer.

“The way she handled situation after situation that was thrown at her. And with such grace.”
 

“And, the subtitles didn’t bother you?” Again with the eyebrow.

“Fine. That was my first movie with subtitles. Are you happy?”

Max shrugged and then stuck an arm in front of me when we reached a crosswalk as if I were a three-year-old who might stumble out into traffic without him.

I restrained myself from pushing his arm out of the way. Or him into traffic.

“Not happy. Just…” Max looked both ways and stepped out into the street, his gaze purposefully ahead, shoulders straight back. “Just because I’m a cop doesn’t mean I’m an uneducated bumpkin.”

Oh.
 

Well.

Um.

So…

Crud.

I took a breath trying to figure out how to answer this. It wasn’t that I thought that exactly, but the conversation had definitely been me trying to show him how different we are. Yes, I was a marketing manager with a master’s degree from an excellent school who went to upscale wine bars. My peers dated doctors and lawyers.
 

I didn’t know how to explain that he would very much fit in with my life as I grew up, but that I was here to become a successful city girl.
 

“You’re a snob,” he said, his gaze still straight ahead.
 

Well, I guess not answering didn’t help either.

“I’m not a snob. I’m really not. My dad was a senior manager at the plant one town over. My mom stayed home. It’s just…I saw that life. I’m looking for office hours and educated conversation and—”

“So you’re saying a cop can’t possibly have educated conversation?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. But, you have to admit that people’s jobs typically fall in line with their interests. I’m not into, um, cop stuff.”

“Cop stuff?”

“Um, guns?”

“Guns.” His voice flattened and I couldn’t tell if it was because he was annoyed or trying to keep the amusement out.

“Are you not interested in guns?”

“Only if they’re aimed at me.”

“Oh.”

“Kasey, I get it. You’re not sure who you are and that makes you feel pretty unsure about who other people are. But, don’t go pasting labels on people until you know them. Most people don’t fit in one box.”

“But, that’s the thing. I don’t want to be in a box.”

“For a girl who doesn’t want to be in a box, you sure do put yourself in one. And others.” He waved me off as I started to reply. “You’re working so hard at trying to be what you think a successful woman in the city is, you’re bypassing finding out who you are again. But this time it’s your own doing.”

With that he stopped walking and stopped our non-argument argument. I hadn’t realized he’d walked right by his place again and stopped at my door. He gave me a smile, a full one, and finished with, “Just make sure you know what you really want and not what you think you’re supposed to want before you go chasing anything else.”

Before I could reply, he’d turned on his heel and jogged across the street as the evening lights flickered on around me.
 

TWENTY

“So, how was your date with Max?” Hailey asked.

Would one of us have to get married for this to stop?

“It wasn’t a date.”
 

I’d just gotten to the gym and my nervousness was being slightly overrun by annoyance.

“Right. So, just dinner and a movie, huh?”

“No dinner. I met him,”
kind of,
“at the theater. Then we went home.”

“Oooohhh. You hooked up with Max!”

“No. We went to our own homes.” I glanced around, afraid the entire world was listening to this conversation. “Did Jenna put you up to this?”

“She didn’t put me up to it, but she did say it would be nice to hear how it went.”

“It went fine if you consider two friends going to a movie and then walking home and not talking to each other again yet fine.”

“So, no post date texting?”

I stopped, trying to keep my calm and glanced at Hailey just in time to see her hide her smirk.

“You’re just giving me a rough time, aren’t you?”

“Am I? Am I really, Kasey?” Hailey grinned, not quit as dangerous as Jenna’s, but enough that it made me wonder.

“Anyway, Max and I...Yeah. No. I couldn't think of a worse idea.”

“Oh, I could.”

“Really?”

I thought about the few single guys in my age box who I knew and…nope. Max was the worst idea out of all those bad ideas.

“Plus,” I added. “He can't stand me.”

“Yeah. A guy who can't stand you always invites you out to the movies.”

“Well, it was more of a calling my bluff than an actual invite.”

I hated to fess up about my stupid comment about culture or how Max called me snob...or how I was really struggling with if that were true or not. Where I came from, being a cop was one step up from working on a farm or in factory. Families were absurdly proud of sons who made it onto the force. But then, you saw those guys making the same deadend mistakes their brothers did. Not what I wanted at all.

Hailey shook her head at me as she pushed the door to the gym open and led me inside.

“Kasey, you know where Max, Ben, and Dane met, right?”

Not really sure where this was going, I shook my head. Unless they met at a gym I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with me.

“Law school.” She dropped the door as she passed through, leaving me to catch up. When I joined her at the front desk, she shook her head and turned to give me her full attention. “You did not hear this from me, and I’m not even sure I should tell you. I don’t want this to become a thing, or to ever doubt you when you stop being stupid. But, how exactly did you think Max could afford to live in The Village?”

I shook my head. It wasn’t something I’d thought about.

“Old money.”

Well, crud. Not only had I been snotty to someone who didn’t deserve it, but I’d been snotty to someone who could be snotty. You know, if snotty was okay.
 

And, Max, annoyingly classily, had said nothing.

“Okay, shifting you out of that panicked look, let’s move on to the fun stuff! First off, I should warn you, my trainer is ridiculously fit. Don’t let that freak you out. He’s good at dealing with us normal people.”

And with that warning, Hailey signed us in.

I was worried enough about the actual working out part of this adventure. The last thing I needed was to worry about the trainer too. 

“Hailey! You're early. It's a minor miracle. If bringing a friend gets you here on time every session, I may comp her membership.”

The man standing before me was pretty much perfect as far as fitness. Luckily, he wasn’t gorgeous too. His hair wasn’t dark enough, and he looked too angular. Also, he could really have used a dimple.

Where did that thought come from?

I pushed dimples out of my head and focused back on the fitness god standing before me.

“I’m Shawn. Hailey tells me she dragged you in here by force.”

“Not quite by force.” I left out the pleading that felt slightly like threats.

At least he didn’t make a comment about me needing to get back in shape or lose weight.
 

He led us into a semi-private room and grabbed three yoga mats, motioning for us to stretch out on the floor.

“Hailey tells me you’re new to working out.”

He let it sit out there like I had to defend myself, politely, but still.

“Not really. I wasn’t really coordinated as a kid, so instead of watching me hurt myself over and over again, my mother entered me into 4-H.”

“4-H still exists?” He sounded both shocked and horrified. It was as if I’d said they had a dowry set aside for whosoever won the joust tournament for my hand in marriage.

“Um. Yeah.” He continued to stare as if I could pull out digital proof or something. “You know you have 4-H here too, right?”

“
We do?”
 

“For real. It’s not that weird.” At least I didn’t think it was.
 

I glanced at Hailey to see if she was giving me the shock-and-awe treatment as well, but she was just leaned over flat, hands wrapped around her far foot. I looked down, way down, at my foot and thought this was going to be a very long hour.

“Okay, so ignoring the lack of sports, dance, and apparently coordination, we’re going to dive right in.” Shawn gave me a sunny smile I could only assume was encouragement and turned to Hailey. “Twenty minutes on the treadmill. I want you doing the speed program. Kasey, you’re going to start at a walk. Add an incline and a speed jump every four minutes. I’ll see you ladies in twenty.”

He rolled his mat up and stuck it in the corner while I gave the treadmill a once over. It was just walking, right? How hard could walking be?

“Come on, Kasey. It’s going to be fine.” I had resorted to self-pep talks. “Easiest piece of equipment in the gym next to the badge scanner.”

Right. Walking. I totally had this.

After a moment, I found the right combination of buttons and started moving. Piece of cake. I was born to walk. I’d been walking almost my whole life. Heck! I walked here.
 

I waited two minutes, then got bored with the initial speed so I bumped it and the incline up. Seriously? I couldn’t even feel the slant change even though I heard the little motor doing something to adjust my machine.

After two more minutes I was feeling pretty good and bumped both up a couple more pushes of the button. Seriously, what was so difficult about the treadmill? I walked along, just starting to get a little warm as I pumped my arm to head up the tiny hill I’d created. I was still nowhere near running like the woman two over, so maybe I could bump it up a bit more and still just be walking fast.

It was amazing what a small hill and a brisk pace could do. I found myself jogging every couple steps to get back to the front of the little belt before I might slip off the end. I was definitely kicking treadmill butt.
 

This was great practice if I was going to be walking more since my new place wasn’t right on the train line.

I stared at the little buttons wondering if I should push them again, wondering where the line between walk and jog—a line I had
no
interest in crossing—was. And then, the new, daring Kasey decided to go for it. I hit both buttons twice real quickly and waited to see what happened.

The treadmill rose to a no-longer-little hill and threw me over that jog line faster than Usain Bolt ran a forty meter dash.

I grabbed at the dashboard, trying to keep myself going while desperately poking at any of the buttons that might slow things down. Instead, I changed the channel on the TV I hadn’t even been watching.