Page 36 of Running
“Not the point right now,” I respond before letting them chat through everything. Soon Rawley joins them on the phone and makes it clear, like I’d speculated, that the photo is misleading and he hasn’t been using anything illicit.
Landon then goes into action, setting up a plan of attack with his PR rep. The two brothers will do a joint interview Sunday to try to clean up Rawley’s reputation.
“You’re a good brother,” I reassure him after he’s pulled all this together.
I feel bad for the Battle siblings, in different ways. But I also know that Landon will do everything in his power to protect Rawley.
As for Grace, she’s likely just going to worry about her little brother.
Once Landon leaves my hotel room, I can’t resist messaging her to check in. I need to confirm our plans for Sunday anyway.
JOHNSON: Hey, you okay? I wanted to make sure you’re not stressing too hard. I do think the plan will work.
GRACE: I’m okay, I appreciate you asking though.
JOHNSON: What time do you want to come over on Sunday? Is 9 too early?
GRACE: No, that’s good. See you then!
Her texts are so neutral in tone, and I try not to dwell on that. After all, they’re totally normal responses in context.
Neutral is not how I feel, however.
I let out a big breath, looking forward to Sunday.
My coping mechanisms for ignoring my pull to Grace just need to be stronger than ever before.
Landon’s sister. Landon’s sister. OFF-FUCKING-LIMITS.
There’s no other choice.
I can’t mess up my friendship with Landon.
CHAPTER 12
Johnson
As I walk inside my house Sunday, I flip on all the lights. Unsurprisingly, with all my days away recently, there’s a stillness in the air. My housekeeper came during the week, so everything is immaculate, and a scent lingers from her cleaning supplies.
Fuck, it’s lavender.A sign? Or just the universe’s way of torturing me?
Since I’m going back to the hotel for our last week of training camp, I didn’t bring much, only a bag of laundry. After I throw it into my washing machine, I head to the kitchen and get the coffee pot working.
About twenty minutes later, the doorbell rings.
As I swing open the door, there she is. Wearing a simple cotton pink tank over white shorts, and sandals with short wedge heels. Her hair is in a high ponytail, swinging slightly from her walk towards the door.
“Hi!” Her eyes are bright, matching the enthusiasm in her tone.
“Hi, Little Battle, come in.”
Grace steps in and surveys the space. My entryway is rotunda style, with a large circular stairway to the second floorwhere there’s the master bedroom and three guest rooms, as well as a large common space.
If you head straight into the house instead of up the stairs, there’s a formal living room that I never use. Once you walk through the formal living room and hang a right, you get to my TV room and kitchen area.
And if you go left instead, there’s a separate section on the first floor with four adjoining guest rooms, each with their own en suite bathrooms.
Yeah, it’s as ridiculous as it sounds.
