I hate jogging. I hate jogging. I hate jogging. I hate jogging. I HATE JOGGING! Bella sneered as she pounded the pavement. She was wearing a pair of leggings and a tight jacket, her phone tucked into the pocket. She was listening to her angry mix, trying to calm down after a brutal overnight shift. She got into her car and drove to a nearby park, taking off and repeating her mantra. I hate jogging. I hate jogging …
“Isabella?” she heard.
Bella stopped and saw Edward wearing a pair of shorts and tight long-sleeved shirt. He was also dressed to run. She looked around, seeing she was in his neighborhood. “Hey, Masen,” she panted, tugging out her earbuds.
“It’s six in the morning,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to forget last night’s shift,” she said. “Do you mind? I kind of have a flow going.” Edward nodded and they continued to jog, at a relatively fast past, too.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Just a lot of little cases that required all of our attention,” Bella said. “And needy fucking parents.” Her pace picked up as she ran into a park, Edward on her heels. “Yes, your child is sick, but I can’t wave my magic fucking wand and cure them of the common cold. AND I’m not giving you a god damned antibiotic for the sniffles.”
“Don’t hold back, Swan. Really,” Edward deadpanned. She smacked his chest. “Hey, I’m on your side. Don’t beat me up, woman.”
“You’re convenient, Edward. I can’t exactly smack the parents,” she snorted. She slowed down, stopping at a water fountain. “I love my job. I truly do, but I’m just on edge.”
“Why?” Edward asked, taking his own sip.
She wanted to tell him that she was on edge because she was turning thirty. She wanted to shake him and force him to open up to her, but he’d probably push her away. So, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I get this way sometimes.” She blinked over to a bridge about a half mile away. “Wanna race?”
“You think you can beat me?” Edward quipped, his face relaxing and a crooked smile spreading over his lips.
“Maybe,” she sang, bouncing on her toes. “Afraid you’re going to get beat by a girl?”
“Never,” he laughed. “On your mark, get set … HEY!”