make a deal.” Damn his wide, inviting eyes. He didn’t beg or make her beg, but there was something in the cast of his features and the assurance with which he carried himself that made her want to talk to him. “I’ll answer one of your questions for every one of mine you answer.”
She suppressed the feeling of small victory by clinging to reality. “You didn’t answer the second half of my first question.”
“Do you need my forgiveness to move on with your life?” His left dimple deepened as one side of his mouth kicked up in a smile.
“That’s a really annoying habit, you know.” She refused to be as amused by him as he was by himself.
“If you’d agreed to the bargain, then that would count as one of my questions.” He opened his arms to her. They looked so strong and protective that she wanted to crawl into them, so she looked away and only half heard what he said next. “The bargain is open-ended. You can keep a tally of questions I ask in your back pocket and use them against me.”
The dim hotel room. The buzz of the air conditioner. Light brown eyebrows shadowing blue eyes. She wasn’t safe here, as she’d led herself to believe. But she was better—in this room, life was certain. Micah couldn’t be relied on not to hurt her, but he would be honest with her when she asked, and enough people lied to her while trying not to hurt her that his honesty was enough for right now.
“Whatever I say is off-the-record. This isn’t an interview.”
“I agree to that.”
“Do you swear?”
“You said you wanted my opinion because I wouldn’t lie to you. I said I agreed this wasn’t an interview. Either you believe me or you don’t.”
Ruby put her elbows on the small table, wrapping her hands together in front of her mouth, while she thought about his question. Either you believe me or you don’t. “Trust me enough to close your eyes and leap across the chasm with me,” the soft blue of his eyes said. He raised an eyebrow at her and she looked away again.
She didn’t want to hide anymore. She didn’t want to be hounded, but she didn’t think she should have to live in a hole in the ground, either. She lowered her hands so they no longer blocked her face and looked him in the eye. “I don’t think I know what forgiveness is, so how do I know if I need it to move on with my life?”
Micah made a low whistling noise. Ruby looked down at her food, pushing the last bits of enchilada and beans around in the take-out container. After such an embarrassing confession, she should want to close the container, open the room door and encourage Micah out. Instead, she wanted to hear what he had to say. His opinion mattered—as it had five years ago. Only then it had sent her scurrying into her parents’ house in shame. Now she hoped to use what he told her to bust out forever.
The sucking of air through his teeth that had made the whistle ended, followed by a short laugh. He shook his head. “This is a much weightier conversation than I expected tonight.”
“What did you expect?”
“To lower your inhibitions with a margarita, fill your belly and quiet your mind with Mexican food, and get you to confess the secret, nefarious reason that you’ve started running again.”
A hot glimmer of betrayal flickered in her belly. “You said this wasn’t an interview.”
“You said this wasn’t going to be an interview and I agreed. I made no promises about not using my knowledge to get an interview later.”
His food was mostly eaten, she noticed, compared to the putty she’d made of her meal. She had to eat, so she reached across the table for a chip to dip into her concoction, asking, “And now?” before shoving the mess into her mouth.
“This series can help you.”
“Help me what? Help me win, right?” she said, mocking every lie she’d already been told. This will make you better, stronger, faster. The easy way her coach had led her from adding protein powder to her breakfast shakes to shoving an oxygen mask over her face to finally sticking a needle in her arm. “Tell me a lie I haven’t heard before.” The lip-puckering sweetness of the margarita would help wash the taste of deception out of her mouth, so she wrapped her lips around the straw and sucked in, her sip noisy and harsh.
“The whole world has been told their version of the rise and fall of America’s Darling. Don’t you want the chance to tell your side of the story?” He rested his arms on the table and leaned into her, the magnetism of his personality reaching across the table and pulling her into him as easily as if she had a cord coming out of her chest and he held the other end. “Tell the American public why you did it, what lessons you learned and how you’re a new and better person. Be an example of how a past can be remade into a stronger future. The public loves a good redemption story. Look at Mike Tyson and his pigeons.”
The cord snapped when she laughed. She fell back into her chair, causing the straw to bump her top teeth and the melting lime and tequila to burn the back of her throat. “Did you just compare me to Mike Tyson? He bit off some guy’s ear.”
“It wasn’t a great comparison....”
“He went to prison for rape—it was a terrible comparison.” She was silent for a moment. “Though I suppose cheating is cheating, whether it’s an ear or a needle.”
“And you don’t have pigeons.”
“I have a flock of backyard hens.”
“Really?” A smile as rich and decadent as chocolate melted across his face. Foolish hunger spread across her belly. Why Micah?
“No,” she said, reluctant to admit the truth. Seeing him completely reevaluate everything he knew about her had felt good, even if only for a moment. “My parents would never allow it. I’ve never even had a pet—not so much as a goldfish.” Her volunteer work at the shelter was for her, so she didn’t mention it. Besides, they weren’t her pets. “Look, I get that you’re trying to help. Or you think you’re trying to help. But America’s not interested in a redemption story, and I’m only running to prove to myself I still can. And it’s great.”
“A run around the block can’t teach you your feet still work?”
“A block is hardly the same thing as fifty kilometers.”
And fifty kilometers wasn’t the same thing as fifty miles. There weren’t many ultras in the summer, which gave her plenty of time to train for a longer race. Telling herself she was going to casually run a 50K hadn’t stopped her from putting together a training schedule for a fifty-mile race. And she’d planned to finish in line with the other elite runners, too. No casual run in the woods; it would be a race to the finish even if she crossed the finish line and fell over.
“And the second race?” His words brought her attention back to the present and the foolishness of the fifty-mile dream, especially if she did want to stay away from the attention of the press.
“To prove to myself that my parents couldn’t stop me.” And those three fucking minutes.
“And what will your excuse for run three be?”
She scowled at him.
“King Ramsey knows I was interested in someone other than Currito. And he’s not as oblivious as he seems. He’s going to figure out who you are, and he’ll be a lot more of a pest than I am. Any interview he gives you is likely to be a trap.”
“Getting out of traps is my specialty.”
“Don’t let your newfound sense of success trick you into being stupid. The interview I’m offering could be gold for your reputation. You could get your life back.”
“Said the spider to the fly.”
“What happened to trusting me?”
“I never said I trusted you, only that you would tell me the truth, even