emotionally as it would physically.
The day she was cleared by her doctor, she went straight home to get ready for her first post-shooting run with Cooper. Cooper was the most excited she’d ever seen him. It had been awhile since she’d put on her running shoes. Stepping out of George’s front door, she ran right into three photographers waiting for her outside on the opposite side of the street in the public park. Shielding her face with her hand, she turned up her music and ran past them. Her lungs and her legs hurt for the entire run up Cameron Street. After a mile, she ran out of breath and cursed herself and her injuries. She stopped running, leaned at the waist, and put both hands on her knees to catch her breath, then turned and jogged back to George’s house. When she rounded the corner, all three photographers were still there, waiting for her return, and started snapping pictures. Running as fast as she could, she burst through the door and locked herself in the house. She could see the headlines now. “FBI Beauty Barely Runs a Mile! Fights to Keep Up with Dog!” Damn it.
“I guess no more outdoor runs for us, Coop.” Stella leaned down and patted his head. It looked like she would be running on the treadmill at the gym from now on.
George shot the last basket, sweat dripping off his shirtless torso. “Bam!” he said as it landed. He played basketball on a semi-regular basis with four other guys. Emanuel was his best friend since preschool; they lived on the same block in Old Town and had been friends most of their lives. Their families were so close they even went on vacations together. Sam had been a customer at Finnegan’s for years and they’d become friends. Hugh was an attorney friend of Sam’s, and Derrick was their ringer. George met Derrick at the bar; he was a former college basketball star. The guys all high-fived each other on the court and then walked over to the benches on the side of the enormous courts at Washington Sports Club.
“Will, you were on fire.” Derrick laughed as he leaned down to pick up his bag. “I felt like I didn’t even have to come today.” He pulled out his phone and ran a hand through his hair. “I gotta run. See y’all next time.”
“Wait up, Derrick, I’m headed out, too,” Hugh called and followed Derrick out.
“So, Will,” Sam smirked, his blue eyes twinkling. “How’s married life?” His copper hair was wet with sweat and he wiped his entire head with a towel.
“Whatever, man.” George pulled his t-shirt back on and took a gulp of water. Sam knew Stella from the bar and her job with the U.S. Marshals. He’d even taken her on a date before he realized she was George’s girl. George had always called her El and Sam hadn’t put two and two together.
“I’m serious. We haven’t seen you in months because of Stella. How’s it going?”
Emanuel laughed. “Bit off more than you can chew, huh?” Emanuel was fit and tall. He’d gone to Virginia Military Institute after he graduated from high school, then straight into the Marines. After his second tour in Iraq, he was transferred to a position at the Pentagon. He lived, ate and breathed the Marine Corps. Emanuel had a short fuse and he didn’t take any shit.
“Well, it’s hard. We’re dealing with all this media bullshit.”
“Oh, shit. I saw the most recent coverage of Stella in the smallest bikini I’ve seen in a while. I’m a little jealous, dude.” Sam chuckled until he saw the look in George’s eyes.
“Shut up, Sam.” George shoved Sam’s shoulder.
“I’m just saying. Stella is hot as shit. Did you see those pictures of her in that bikini? Good God.” Sam kept on.
“For real, I’m going to punch you,” George warned.
Emanuel interrupted. “Seriously, how are you doing? This is a lot to deal with.”
George sat down on the bench and took a big drink of water. “I don’t know. You know things between me and Stella are good, but everything else is shit.
The day she was cleared by her doctor, she went straight home to get ready for her first post-shooting run with Cooper. Cooper was the most excited she’d ever seen him. It had been awhile since she’d put on her running shoes. Stepping out of George’s front door, she ran right into three photographers waiting for her outside on the opposite side of the street in the public park. Shielding her face with her hand, she turned up her music and ran past them. Her lungs and her legs hurt for the entire run up Cameron Street. After a mile, she ran out of breath and cursed herself and her injuries. She stopped running, leaned at the waist, and put both hands on her knees to catch her breath, then turned and jogged back to George’s house. When she rounded the corner, all three photographers were still there, waiting for her return, and started snapping pictures. Running as fast as she could, she burst through the door and locked herself in the house. She could see the headlines now. “FBI Beauty Barely Runs a Mile! Fights to Keep Up with Dog!” Damn it.
“I guess no more outdoor runs for us, Coop.” Stella leaned down and patted his head. It looked like she would be running on the treadmill at the gym from now on.
George shot the last basket, sweat dripping off his shirtless torso. “Bam!” he said as it landed. He played basketball on a semi-regular basis with four other guys. Emanuel was his best friend since preschool; they lived on the same block in Old Town and had been friends most of their lives. Their families were so close they even went on vacations together. Sam had been a customer at Finnegan’s for years and they’d become friends. Hugh was an attorney friend of Sam’s, and Derrick was their ringer. George met Derrick at the bar; he was a former college basketball star. The guys all high-fived each other on the court and then walked over to the benches on the side of the enormous courts at Washington Sports Club.
“Will, you were on fire.” Derrick laughed as he leaned down to pick up his bag. “I felt like I didn’t even have to come today.” He pulled out his phone and ran a hand through his hair. “I gotta run. See y’all next time.”
“Wait up, Derrick, I’m headed out, too,” Hugh called and followed Derrick out.
“So, Will,” Sam smirked, his blue eyes twinkling. “How’s married life?” His copper hair was wet with sweat and he wiped his entire head with a towel.
“Whatever, man.” George pulled his t-shirt back on and took a gulp of water. Sam knew Stella from the bar and her job with the U.S. Marshals. He’d even taken her on a date before he realized she was George’s girl. George had always called her El and Sam hadn’t put two and two together.
“I’m serious. We haven’t seen you in months because of Stella. How’s it going?”
Emanuel laughed. “Bit off more than you can chew, huh?” Emanuel was fit and tall. He’d gone to Virginia Military Institute after he graduated from high school, then straight into the Marines. After his second tour in Iraq, he was transferred to a position at the Pentagon. He lived, ate and breathed the Marine Corps. Emanuel had a short fuse and he didn’t take any shit.
“Well, it’s hard. We’re dealing with all this media bullshit.”
“Oh, shit. I saw the most recent coverage of Stella in the smallest bikini I’ve seen in a while. I’m a little jealous, dude.” Sam chuckled until he saw the look in George’s eyes.
“Shut up, Sam.” George shoved Sam’s shoulder.
“I’m just saying. Stella is hot as shit. Did you see those pictures of her in that bikini? Good God.” Sam kept on.
“For real, I’m going to punch you,” George warned.
Emanuel interrupted. “Seriously, how are you doing? This is a lot to deal with.”
George sat down on the bench and took a big drink of water. “I don’t know. You know things between me and Stella are good, but everything else is shit.
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