"He's too perfect," I told Olivia at practice the next day. We were warming up together on the track, letting the All-Stars and the Rising Rollers dart around us like obstacles.

She turned backward on her skates so she could face me. "I hate to say it, but I kind of agree with you. What guy gets that hot and heavy and then leaves?"

"My point exactly." I skated up beside her. "I mean, nobody's that noble."

"What do you think's wrong with him?"

I shrugged. "I really don't know, but I can't get the question out of my head."

"It could be nothing, Lucy. Perhaps the universe thinks it's time for you to have something great in your life." She sighed and shook her head. "After all you've been through, I'd say you deserve it."

"Thanks, but it's easier for me to believe he has a brain defect or that he's really a serial killer."

She laughed. "Maybe you need therapy. What happened after he left?"

"He went home, and we texted till three o'clock this morning. I heard you come in around one."

"What did you guys talk about all night?"

"Everything and absolutely nothing." I started to count on fingers. "His favorite movie is Legends of the Fall. He thinks Matchbox Twenty is the best band that's ever recorded music. And he likes to read, but only funny stuff like Shit My Dad Says and anything by Tucker Max—though he made me swear to never tell his mother."

"Classy," she said.

"And we talked a lot about that kiss." My legs quaked thinking of it. "At one point, I thought he might drive back over to our apartment and finish the job."

"It was that good?"

I held my hands up. "So good it makes me question his morality."

She burst out laughing.

"Hey, Lucy," someone said behind me. It was Full Metal Jackie. "How's your shoulder?"

I groaned. "Ugh. The bruises still haven't healed from last week, and I'm afraid almost all your arnica cream is gone. If you'll tell me where I can buy it, I'll get you a replacement."

She put her hand on her stomach. "I won't be needing it, remember."

I smiled. "Oh yeah."

When she was gone, I looked at Olivia. "He saw them last night. The bruises."

She playfully slapped my arm. "You didn't tell me you were getting naked in the breezeway!"

"Naked?" Zoey asked, joining us on the track. "Who was getting naked?"

Olivia pointed at me.

"I didn't get naked. It's a wide-neck shirt. It got wet and sagged off my shoulders."

"What did he say?" Olivia asked.

I clasped my hands together, smiling. "That he worries about me."

Olivia put her hands on her hips. "I say that all the time, and you usually hit me."

"It wasn't quite the same tone."

Shamrocker blew her whistle. "Fresh Meat bitches, huddle up!" She was talking to all of us, not just the actual Fresh Meat group which had continued to dwindle over the grueling weeks of training.

"Think they're done punishing us for the All-Stars being off their game?" I asked Olivia quietly as we skated over to join our group.

"Not hardly. All four weeks, you heard Medusa," she answered.

I looked around. "Where is she?"

Olivia shrugged.

"The actual newbies have 27 in 5s today," Shamrocker announced. "If you're a veteran, pick a newbie for whom you can count laps."

Groans and murmuring echoed around the room from the newbies. Me, mostly.

"We're going to use both tracks so we can get these done as quickly as possible. Styx will keep time on Track A." Shamrocker held up her stopwatch. "I'll keep time on Track B. If you're not counting, get your gear off and get lined up on the wall. That includes the newbies once you're finished with your time trials."

"Get our gear off?" I asked Olivia to make sure I'd heard her correctly.

She shrugged.

Olivia, Zoey, and I lined up beside each other with the first group of skaters on Track A. Olivia bumped her fist against mine. "You can do this, Lucy. Keep your knees bent, breathe, and keep pushing."

Kraken was going to count for me. She flashed me a thumbs-up from the sidelines. Olivia's words replayed in my head. You can do this, Lucy.

The whistle blasted.

Olivia lapped the rest of us by lap number four, but I ignored her and kept going. My ankles no longer burned since the blisters had hardened into callouses. And my lungs felt bigger, able to hold more power-boosting oxygen.

"Five!"

"Six!"

"Seven!" Kraken called. "Good job, Lucy!"

I pushed through the corners, keeping low when I entered and skating to the outside coming out of the turns.

"Eight!"

"Nine!"

"Ten!"

"Eleven!"

"Twelve!"

I passed Zoey. She was breathing heavy, but she was still moving.

"Thirteen!"

"Fourteen!"

Styx's arm shot into the air. "That's halfway!"

Whoa. Really?

"Fifteen!" Kraken yelled.

"Sixteen!"

"Seventeen!"

"Eighteen!"

A stitch pulled in my side. Breathe in through your nose. Out through your mouth.

"Nineteen!"

Olivia flew past me again.

"Twenty!"

"Twenty-One!"

"Twenty-Two!

"Twenty-Three!"

"Twenty-Four!"

Stars began twinkling in the corners of my vision, and sweat dripped off my jaw. The stitch in my side was no longer held at bay by breathing tricks. My side constricted in pain. I needed to think about anything else. Find a happy place.

West's mouth on mine at the door.

Olivia came around my left again, nudging my arm as she passed. I smiled and pushed to catch her. I pushed harder and harder, into the turn, then sailing out of it.

"Thirty seconds!" Styx shouted.

"Twenty-Five!"

"Twenty-Six!"

The whistle blasted again. Two turns away from hitting twenty-seven laps.

Olivia spun around on her wheels, popping up onto her toe stops in a perfect tomahawk stop. She pumped her fists in the air and skated back toward me. "You did it, Lucy!" she cheered, slamming into me. We both toppled backward, falling in a heap, laughing.

"I didn't do it," I said, panting as she rolled off me. "I was half a lap short."

She reached over and slapped my helmet. "Half a lap though!"

Zoey skated over, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. She clapped her hands. "Good job, Lucy."

"Thank you," I said.

"How many for you, Zo?" Olivia asked.

She put her hands on her hips. "Twenty-two. I'm getting there."

I clapped my hands. "That's excellent." And it was. She'd beaten more than all of us combined.

Kraken came over and slapped me a high five.

"Hey!" Styx yelled. "Get off my track!"

We looked over. Styx was grinning, and she gave me a covert thumbs-up.

Olivia got up and skated off the track; I crawled off, but I didn't care. Twenty-six-and-a-half. I'll take it.

Grace got twenty-nine laps. Monica got twenty-six like me. Olivia, The Prodigy? Thirty-one.

Medusa walked in as the last of the newbies finished. She was wearing sneakers, short shorts, and a sports bra. Her black-and-pink hair was pulled up into a tight knot on her head, and she carried a sweat towel and a water bottle in hand.

"This isn't good," Olivia said as we pushed our gym bags to the corner of the room with everyone else. "Styx says she's a personal trainer now and that she hates it when Medusa leads off-skates practice."

"Crap."

The torture began with sidestep jumping jacks and a hateful exercise called gate swings. Medusa rattled on about the importance of groin stretching and thigh strengthening until I wanted to throw my water bottle at her head. Then we did a series of yoga moves infused with cardio, body resistance, and self-loathing.

And that was just the warm-up.

Then we had to run—not just laps around the track or even the room. Oh no. We had to run laps that included the stairs on both the front and the back of the room. Up the stairs, across the bleachers, down the stairs, across the room, up the bleachers, and so on until hot, angry beads of sweat (and possibly blood) drizzled into my eyeballs obscuring the stairs beneath my tired feet. I tripped three times.

We finished the hour with burpees, wall sits, and a planking contest where the winner could sit out the rest of practice. Medusa won, of course, and "lucky for us" the workout continued!

When she blew the final whistle, I collapsed where I stood in a puddle of my own perspiration on the floor. I was so tired, I couldn't even whine. Poor Zoey was hacking up a lung, hunched over the trashcan, Olivia was spread eagle beside me, and I didn't even care where Grace and Monica had ended up.

"I see lights," Olivia said, panting. "I think it's death and the tunnel to the other side."

"I won't"—hehn-hehn—"argue"—hehn—"if you"—hehn—"want to go," I struggled to say.

Her hand flopped over onto mine. "You've been a good friend, Lucy. Don't ever forget me."

It was a solid three minutes before I had the ability to sit up. It would be another ten before I could walk to get my bag. Styx came over to talk to Olivia. Even she was red faced and sweaty.

"Is this what it's going to be like around here from now on?" I asked, pulling my shirt off over my head because the air conditioning on the wet fabric was giving me goose bumps.

Styx nodded. "Probably for a while." She reached over and slapped my leg. "This is good for you though. You were worried about passing your endurance test. Now you're sure to kill it at tryouts."

I jammed my finger into my chest. "If it doesn't kill me first." I looked at Olivia. "You ready to go home?"

They exchanged a quick glance. "I've got some errands to run after practice. I'll meet you at home," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. "You don't have a car here."

"I can give you a ride," Styx offered. "I have some errands to run myself."

My face broke into a knowing smile, but Olivia snapped her finger over her lips. "Not one word," she whispered.

I zipped my lips closed and pushed myself up. "Well, I'll see you later then."

When I got back to my apartment, I didn't bother to lug my bag inside. I grabbed my damp shirt and dirty pair of socks out of it and trudged up the stairs. A pair of legs were sticking out from my door. I smiled. "I told you to call first," I said as I approached.

When I rounded the alcove, I stumbled back. It wasn't Ethan. It was West—and his Minion. "Kevin missed you and Stuart," he said, waving its arm at me. "I told him we'd come visit."

I smiled, and his eyes fell to my bare stomach. I was still in my sports bra and Under Armor capris. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting company when I got here," I said.

"It sounded like you were expecting someone. Do you come home to find men at your door often?" he asked, standing up and brushing off his backside.

I laughed. "Yes. I thought you were my brother."

He took a step toward me, dangling the Minion by the hand at his side. "I'm definitely not your brother."

I looked up into his handsome face and noticed tan lines where his sunglasses usually rested. "No, you're certainly not." He bent to kiss me, but I stopped him with my hand on his firm chest. "West, I just came from the hardest workout of my life. I'm nasty."

His arms went around me anyway. "I don't care." And then we were kissing again in the breezeway.

I finally pulled back to catch my breath. "Let's go inside. All I can think about is what I must smell like. I need to take a shower."

He narrowed his eyes. "Is that an invitation?"

"No," I said firmly. "Come on."

We went into my apartment, and I put my keys on the hook by the door. "You can hang out in the living room or my room. I'll just be a few minutes."

"Your room?" he asked with a playful grin.

"Sure. But don't get any ideas," I said as he followed me into my bedroom. "You're no longer allowed to start stuff with me that you're too gentlemanly to finish."

He jabbed both thumbs at his chest. "I should win an award for the restraint I showed last night. You think it was hard for you? Ha!"

When I went into the bathroom, he was looking at the photos on my dresser. I peeked back through the door. "Make yourself comfortable."

"I'm going to snoop through your stuff. Cool?" he asked, holding up a framed picture.

"Whatever floats your boat, West Adler."

Before getting in the shower I sent a quick text to Olivia. Don't bring Styx back here. I have company. ;-)

She responded while I waited for the water to warm. Don't worry. Styx is helping me with the new specials for the restaurant this month. What do you think about a parmesan chicken couscous dish called Becouscous I Said So???

I laughed. I think you're an idiot.

Olivia: Then I'll consider that a win.

Despite my tired and aching muscles, I exhibited superhuman speed in the shower, washing and deep conditioning my hair as well as shaving my legs in record time. I dressed quickly in my walk-in closet and dabbed on a tiny bit of makeup while I blow dried my hair.

When I walked back into my bedroom, West was lying on my bed with Kevin and Stuart propped against the pillows next to him. He looked at his watch. "That was impressive. Eleven minutes."

"You were timing me?" I asked.

He sat up on the edge of the bed. "Yep. You can tell a lot about a girl by how much time she spends in the bathroom."

"I'm sure that's true." I walked over and stopped at his knees. "What do you want to do?"

He rested his forehead against my stomach. "Such an unfair question."

I raked my nails through his hair. "OK, what else do you want to do?"

His eyes sparkled as he looked up at me. "I was hoping we could grab something to eat and maybe catch a movie. Have you ever been to Franklin?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

"You'd remember it if you had. I think you'll like it."

I looked down at my outfit. "Is this OK to wear?"

He smiled. "You look amazing."

I leaned down and kissed him.

He stopped just as his fingers tangled in my still-damp hair and drew in a labored breath. "I'm a strong and determined man, but this is pushing it."

I offered my hand. "Come on. Let's vacate the danger zone."

Downtown Franklin was a vibrant blend of the past and the present, small-town Americana meets modern affluence. Modern shops and restaurants with old soul vibes converged with historic buildings and war monuments. The idyllic heart of the city could have been ripped straight from a Dickens novel or a Norman Rockwell painting. As I stepped out of the truck, a horse-drawn carriage rolled by, and I briefly wished it was snowing.

West took my hand. "You hungry?"

"Starving."

"I know the perfect place."

We crossed the street and walked to a building marked "Gray's" with a massive, vintage neon sign. "It used to be a pharmacy," West said. "But they've rehabbed it into one of the best bars and restaurants in town."

I raised an eyebrow. "Did you rehab it?"

He laughed and put his hand on the small of my back as he steered me through the door. "I didn't build everything in the state of Tennessee."

"Just checking," I said, flashing a smile over my shoulder.

It was too bad he hadn't been the one to renovate the building. It would have gained him a few more cool points, not that he needed any. The dining room was informal and rustic, with antique mirrors of all shapes and sizes hanging on the unfinished walls. We were seated at a booth near the bar. "This place is really cool," I said, still looking around with wonder.

"There are two floors above this one." He pointed to the ornately tiled ceiling with his menu. "It's got a pretty cool bar with a stage for live music up top."

I smiled at him. "You were right. I like it here."

"Wait till you try the shrimp and grits."

West was right—the shrimp and grits was amazing—but I only knew because I tasted his. I had to order the Sweet Tea Chicken and Waffles as soon as I read the description. Whipped honey butter and bourbon maple syrup? Yes, please.

When I finally put my fork down, after licking every drop of buttery goodness from the tines, I pointed at my plate. "That may be the best meal I've ever had in my life."

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, then dropped it in his bowl. "Yeah?"

I reclined back in my chair to accommodate the food baby I'd grown since sitting down. "Absolutely. It was so good, I feel I have no other choice than to let you accompany me to Jake's party."

"Is that an official invitation?" he asked, leaning on his elbows.

"Yes. West Adler, will you be my date next weekend?"

He sucked a sharp breath through clenched teeth. "I don't know. I'll have to check my social calendar. It is pretty booked—"

I kicked the side of his boot under the table.

"Of course, I'll go." He rolled his eyes and tossed his hands up dramatically. "Gah! It took you long enough to ask me!"

I sat forward on the edge of my seat. "Then I guess that makes us even."

He clapped his hands slowly. "Well played."

The waiter brought our check, which he quickly snapped up.

"On that note. Do you still want to see a movie?" he asked, pulled a few crisp bills out of his wallet.

"Sure. I wonder if the new Ghostbusters is still playing. I love Melissa McCarthy."

"Me too, but it's not that kind of theater." He stood and offered me his hand.

I was confused. "How many kinds of movie theaters are there?"

West waved to the bartender as we walked out the door. "You'll see."

We walked a few blocks to the Franklin Theatre. I looked up at the marquee. "The Sandlot? We're seeing the little kids' baseball movie?"

Planting his feet on the sidewalk, he turned to me. "Lucy, it's the greatest movie of our generation."

I blinked. "Maybe your generation, but certainly not mine."

He gripped his chest as he stumbled to the back of the ticket line. "You're killing me, Smalls! How old are you, for real?"

I sighed. "I'm twenty-eight. Why? How old are you?"

He groaned. "Thirty-two."

My eyes narrowed. "No, you're not. You're thirty-three."

His mouth dropped open. "No. I'm thirty-two. But you cyber-stalked me!"

Shit.

"The Music City Herald misprinted my age in their article." He threw his head back and laughed. Hard. "You're so busted."

"Of course I looked you up online. Some of us grew up in the Information Age, you know? You probably grew up on encyclopedias and phone books."

He leaned toward my face. "Hey, I had an AOL account."

I covered my mouth and snickered.

We moved forward a few feet in line. "So what's the greatest movie of your generation, youngling?" Then he pointed at me. "And if you dare say The Notebook, I may have to end this relationship right here."

I bit my lower lip as I considered it. "The first one that comes to mind is The Dark Knight, because...Heath Ledger."

He nodded and rubbed his chin. "Yep. Yep. Good choice."

"But I think I'd have to go with The Departed."

His hands fell to his sides. "Oh man. I think I just fell in love with you."

I laced my fingers together and hugged them to my chest. "That scene where Leonardo DiCaprio kisses Vera Farmiga for the first time in her kitchen up on the counter..." I let out a singsong sigh.

West's head fell quizzically to the side and he squinted. "Not exactly the reason I was thinking, but still a good movie."

It was our turn at the ticket window. "Are we really doing this?"

"Have you even seen The Sandlot?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Oh yes. We're doing this." West smiled at the clerk. "Two, please."