Free From This Day Forward by Lauren Layne Page B

feet and corresponding lack of a supportive sports bra. The awkward slap, slap, slap of her flip-flops as she risked tripping with every lurching step.
    The gross, hiccupping sobs she was making.
    A woman had answered the door. Not just any woman— the woman. The same freaking woman.
    Granted, this time the brunette hadn’t been half-naked, but still. For all of Jason’s talk about how he didn’t do relationships, he was certainly doing something with the pretty brunette.
    Seeing as how she was, you know, pregnant.
    With Jason’s baby?
    This time she did trip, barely catching herself as her arms flailed wildly. Oh God. Had he slept with her when he was going to be the father to that woman’s baby?
    Leah started to run faster.
    People were staring, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t the first time there’d been a lovers’ spat of sorts in the tristate area, and it wouldn’t be the last. She didn’t care about any of that. She cared about getting home and trying to figure out how to piece together her pride. She cared about her dignity and . . .
    Jason.
    Leah’s pace slowed, and then slowed some more as the thought hit her hard.
    She cared about Jason.
    As in, all the way cared about him.
    She loved him.
    She loved him, and she’d dug deep to find the courage to come here today. To tell him that she wanted more than a fling, that she wanted . . . him.
    And yet, she was running ?
    Again.
    Without so much as seeing him or giving him the chance to explain.
    That wasn’t love; it was immature cowardice.
    Leah stopped as a surge of self-loathing overtook her. What was she doing?
    The man she knew deserved better than this. The man she loved deserved a chance, at least, to explain.
    And she deserved to hear whatever he had to say.
    Even if it ripped her heart out.
    Leah closed her eyes and took a deep breath before forcing herself to pivot on her heel.
    This was about to suck. Forcing herself to walk back to his house, to somehow look him in the eye and apologize for running again.
    She opened her eyes as she took a resolute step forward, only to skid to a halt once again.
    Leah blinked. Blinked again.
    Surely she was imagining things. Surely she wasn’t seeing Jason running—no, hobbling —toward her.
    Her heart squeezed as she realized that he was limping—she knew that most of the time his knee didn’t give him much trouble, but he was always deliberate in the way he moved, careful not to make any sudden movement that would twist it.
    She also knew that when he did aggravate it, it hurt like hell. And yet here he was, coming after her.
    “Stop!” she yelled. “Jason, stop!”
    He didn’t stop, and Leah took off toward him. “Stop!” she said again.
    She got close enough to see his face and flinched when she saw the anger there. Still, she forced herself forward with her awkward, boob-jiggling, flip-flop run. She deserved his anger.
    They collided into each other, her gasping for air a bit more than him, but their grip on each other was equally frantic.
    “Your knee!” she said, just as he yelled, “What the hell, Red?”
    His face was angry as his hand closed on her elbow, pulling her so close she had no choice but to look into his glowering expression. “I wouldn’t have to be running at all if you didn’t go scampering off like a damned jackrabbit every time my sister comes over to see me!”
    “I don’t—”
    Leah broke off, and she felt the blood drain from her face.
    She’d thought he might have an explanation. She’d hoped it would be a good one—that would mean there might be some hope for them.
    But never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that he’d have an explanation that made her feel so utterly, horribly foolish.
    “Your sister,” she parroted back.
    He swallowed and nodded. “Kathleen.”
    She pulled back and lifted the heels of her hands to her temples. “Oh my God. That was your sister a year ago?”
    He rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s how sibling relationships