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Amy kept on with her jogging, glad it was early. No one was running along the path she was on. And the truth was, she preferred it that way.
However, it wasn't too long before she suddenly realized she was wrong. Judging by the sound of footfalls from somewhere behind her, she wasn't the only one running here, after all. As she kept on moving, she could hear the other person getting closer, steadily closer to her.
She looked up just as the other runner caught up to her. Jogging practically right alongside to her right was none other than Paul Levesque.
"Hey there."
"Hey," she replied, dumbfounded. The truth was, she wasn't exactly thrilled that he was there. If she didn't know better, he had deliberately followed her. It seemed he always knew where she was, and how to find her. While she liked him enough to begin thinking of him as a friend, that sort of unnerved her. She stopped in her tracks, and he did the same.
The redhead stretched easily, pretty much close to being done with her routine. Paul, on the other hand, was huffing and puffing, completely out of breath. She eyed him warily as he held a hand to his chest, as though he were suffering an asthma attack. Lots of sweat was streaming down his crinkly brow.
"Are you okay?" she asked, frowning. In stark contrast to him, she had barely broken a sweat. It seemed strange that he would be so winded from running. After all, he was part of the football team.
"Swell," Levesque replied, making an okay sign with his fingers. In reality, he was heavily out of breath, sweating bullets, needed water badly and could just feel the beginnings of a charley horse building in his left calf. But there was no way he would tell Amy any of that.
As they stood there and she stretched beside him, Paul took the time to admire her trim, fit body.
Although she was normally quite oblivious to people checking her out, it wasn't the case this time. The redhead tried to ignore it, not wanting to let Levesque know that she was a bit irritated. Her running time was for her and her alone. Why couldn't he just go away? She was beginning to again feel the same familiar strains of annoyance she'd experienced when she'd first met him.
"Well, I'm gonna take off," he suddenly said, as though strangely reading her mind.
"Sure thing," came the reply.
Amy was relieved when he left a moment later. It was as though a great weight had been removed from her shoulders.
*
Shane's eyes snapped open abruptly at the feel of something being thrown on him. He looked over at the object on his chest and realized it was a medium-sized Teddy bear that belonged to his sister. And then, as he focused ahead, near the foot of the bed, he realized Stephanie was standing there, looking pretty angry.
"Steph... What time is it?"
"The time is not important," the brunette snapped. "But since you're awake, now you can answer a little question for me."
The young man sat up in the bed, confused as he eyed his younger sister. What on earth did she have to ask him, and on a Saturday morning, at that?
"Can't this wait till later?" he complained, settling back against the pillows.
"No! No, it can't, Shane!" In a flash, Stephanie was at the bedside and shaking him.
"Cut it out, Steph!" he grumbled. Now he was beginning to get mad. She was usually a great sister who respected him and his right to sleep late on weekends. But clearly, something had gotten under her skin. He opened his eyes to stare at her. "What?"
"'What?!' You jerk!" Stephanie yelled. "So, that's what you two do when you get together? You made a bet to see who could score a girl first?!" With the last six words, she gave her brother a hard shove in the chest.
Shane's blood ran ice cold. He simply stared at her for a full minute. Then, "How... How did you know about that?" He figured there was no use in denying it. Besides, he could probably end up winning the damn thing now if she knew!
"I heard you two idiots talking outside last night!" She balled her right hand into a fist, pounding on the side of Shane's mattress. "I can't believe you're condoning Paul cheating on me! You're my brother, Shane, and I thought we were friends!"
"We are, Steph."
"Spare me the bullshit," she replied in a now oddly calm voice. She held up her hand as though to ward him off. Her eyes closed for a beat, and the dark-haired man wasn't quite sure of what to do or say at this point. But he didn't have to do or say a thing as Stephanie suddenly turned and ran from his room.
He thought about the young woman's outburst for a few minutes afterward. She sure seemed upset. He wondered what Paul would say, and how he would react, when Stephanie confronted him. And, knowing his sister, he knew a confrontation would happen, and it wouldn't be pretty.
Shortly thereafter, Shane found himself drifting back into a peaceful sleep.