“I know.”
“Man,” he groaned. “Would it help if I said ‘please’?”
“I‘m not sure,” I answered honestly. “Maybe. Do you even know how to say that word without attaching any undue sarcasm and irony to it?”
He is head fell back as if in a silent plea to heaven. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Come jogging with me. Do the list. Stop this shit. Lena, please?”
He seemed sincere, and he was right, I didn’t completely, one hundred percent want to leave. Also, it was important to reward good behavior.
“Okay, Jimmy. Let’s give it a go.”
# # #
“Oh good god, I hate you.” I panted, dragging my sorry ass after the bastard to whom the sentiment belonged.
“See? It’s working already.” Jimmy hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. The athletic ass might as well have been out for a stroll. “Plus, you’ll be healthier. Everyone wins.”
“I’m healthy. I eat fruit.”
“In pie doesn’t count.”
If only I had laser beams for eyes. Damn the lack of technology.
“Not saying there’s anything wrong with you,” he said, turning to face me. Still jogging, the f**king show-off. If only he’d fall on his ass, I’d enjoy that so much. His gaze flitted over me, lingering overly long, though not unappreciatively strangely enough, on my hips. “I like a little junk in the trunk.”
I whispered expletives because there wasn’t enough breath in me to actually say them out loud.
“We jog every day, slowly work up your distance, you can eat more pie. How does that sound?”
It sounded like he was a patronizing judgmental ass**le. I flipped him the bird.
“Lena, look at me.”
I stopped, I looked. Also, I slumped over and gasped for breath because multitasking is important for the modern woman.
“You’re a pretty girl and your curves are cool,” he said, still moving on the spot. “Getting a little healthier won’t hurt, though. Raise your energy levels, stuff like that.”
Jimmy thought I was pretty?
Of course, he could have just been being kind. Either way, it didn’t matter, not really. So my belly should just stop swinging about all lunatic like and be still. Though the jibe about pie still pissed me off. People from a local restaurant stocked the fridge, there were salads, grilled meats, pasta, and yes, occasionally pie. Like I made them put it in there at gunpoint or something. What I ate was none of his business and his opinion shouldn’t even matter.
It shouldn’t and yet it did.
“I don’t need to conform to your ideas of beauty,” I said, once my breath had been located.
He’d been staring off at the oversized houses and fall trees around us, but now his gaze snapped back to me. “Course you don’t, never said you did.”
“Not all of us are born looking perfect like you, Jimmy.”
“You’re pissed?” He stepped closer. “Lena, I’ve got a lot of flaws. We’ve been living in each other’s pockets for a couple of months now so you of all people know that. Not liking the way you look isn’t one of them. You want to chew me out over something, pick another topic, you’re way off on this one.”
Neither of us spoke for a moment. We faced each other, our breaths misting in the cold morning air.
“I might be slightly defensive about this,” I admitted eventually.
“I might have noticed.” He pushed his hair back from his face. “I probably also didn’t say it right. Add it to my list of flaws, has trouble expressing himself.”
“Especially in ways that are socially acceptable.”
He gave me an amused look. “You think that matters, what everyone thinks?”
“Sometimes. To a degree.”
He snorted. “You can’t affect what people think, Lena. They wanna think the worst, they will. I’m not wasting energy trying to make everyone happy. I have enough on my hands just keeping my own shit together.”
There was wisdom in his words, though they weren’t entirely accurate.
“People judge you whatever,” he said. “People f**king love their own opinions and are all too happy to throw ’em at you, whether you ask or not. You have to be happy with yourself.”
“Yes. But you care what the guys think,” I said.
“Sure.” He started jogging again, more slowly this time, thank you, god in heaven.
Ever so reluctantly, I fell into step beside him. My poor calves and thighs burned. Without a doubt they hated me with a fiery passion and I didn’t blame them at all. “And Ev and Anne. You care about them.”
He grunted.
“And Mr. Ericson.” Sadly, I struggled to keep up even at this lesser speed. “Though you do mangle your words occasionally, don’t stop to think before you speak. But don’t we all?”
“Let’s move onto another flaw,” he said.
“All right.” I searched my besotted mind for ammunition. “How about…”
“I’m self-centered.”
“Yeah. That’s true. You’re pretty arrogant and narcissistic.”
A lady jogger bounced on by, clad head to toe in form fitting Lycra. She gave Jimmy a wide inviting do-me-on-the-spot smile. He nodded to her, then concentrated on the path once more.
“Not entirely without cause, granted. But you don’t date,” I said, stopping (he halted too, happily). Jogging and talking at the same time just didn’t work for me. Of course, neither did jogging and breathing. “Why is that? You put all this effort into your looks, buff up your body, buy the best clothes. And hey, kudos to you, it works. But you don’t go out unless it’s business or something to do with the guys, you’re basically a hermit.”
“There a question in there somewhere?”
“Why?”
“Why do I take care of myself or why am I a hermit?”
“Let’s start with the first one,” I said.
He shrugged. “I’m vain. What are you gonna do about it?”
Huh. “So you’re completely happy with yourself?”
“With how I look? Sure.” He raised a brow. “My looks are the one thing that’s always worked for me, always gotten me attention. If I’m pouting on the cover of some magazine, then that helps sell records. It’s a fact. I’m not a poet like Davie or crazy talented on an instrument. I sing okay, sure. But what I have is this face, that’s what I contribute. And in this business, you use every advantage at your disposal.”