(12) Kathie Jane

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Kathie Jane

"Good morning, Cadey!" I bounced on my toes.

He closes the door behind him, his expression the usual one which is utterly unreadable. But there was a tiny flare in his eyes (no glasses) when he takes in my running ensemble. Said flare shoot past his face before I could confirm it was surprise. He doesn't expect to find me behind his door. Let alone awake.

"Are you always this cheerful at four in the morning?" He started walking to the elevator.

I trailed behind him. "I'm always like this every hour of the day."

"Do me a favor. Consider this time of the day an exception." He steps aside when the elevator doors open and gestured I go in first.

"Grumpy." I chuckled.

But, no doubt, a gentleman.

He followed suit and pressed the button to the lobby, silent.

"Hey, Cadey."

"Cade," he corrected.

I wave my hand in dismissal. "It's Cadey for me."

He shakes his head, expelling a long, deep sigh. "What do you need?"

"Nothing. I just want to say you can be not grumpy around me." I leaned to his shoulder since the lack of heels leveled me to his shoulder blade.

"I'm not grumpy," he mumbles.

My nose crinkled. "Are you telling me this is your whole personality?"

The elevator pings open. I stepped out, beaming at Gary on the front desk which is a far cry from the usual morning rush at seven. It was strange not to see the staff lending assistance to bustling residents and their Golden Retrievers. "Hi, Gary."

"Good morning, Ms. Lewis," he pauses, the easy smile turning deferential when he sees Cade, "and Mr. Parkinson." He had on a look that screamed never in his wildest dreams had he pictured us together.

"Good morning, Gary. I have the perfect gift for Joan's baby shower." I grinned.

Gary's smile shifted back to an unreserved one. "You're spoiling her with gifts."

"She's getting used to it." I waved him goodbye as Cade lead me to the revolving doors of our building. "Cadey, do you think a turquoise onesie is too girlish?"

"I don't know anything onesie-related, Kathie Jane," he responds flatly.

I giggled, stopping dead in my tracks as I take in the still-dark morning. "Maybe I should've brought tactical flashlights."

Cade ignores me.

"Where, pray tell, are we headed?" I followed him on the sidewalk.

"Park."

Of course, the park. It's within walking distance, thus convenient. Except it was practically deserted when we made it to the entrance. There were a few people here and there warming up.

"You're quiet. Change your mind yet?" He asks, his tone going a little playful.

Just a bit.

"No. I'm just surprised. I always thought you're the last one of your specie."

Cade only shakes his head. "You're surprise there are people who have lives?"

"You call this living? I call this 'what-the-hell-are-these-people-thinking?'."

He made a sound that was close to a chuckle.

"So, do you call yourselves the league of workaholics?" I murmured. If Audrey shows up here, I wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised.

Cade jerks his chin toward the darkened path of the park. "No more talking. Can you keep up?"

I snorted. "I don't keep up. I take my time. You go ahead." I made a shooing gestqure at him.

He turns around and trotted to the path ahead. I watch him as he picked up speed to a jog and disappeared around a bend. I did warm ups, then started off walking, blindly avoiding stones in the path – if there's any – which I might trip on. Assured my knees wouldn't get scraped, I quickened my pace to full-on running.

Half an hour later, my lungs burning and my legs stinging from exhaustion, Cade lapped me for the fifth time. I stared at his back as he disappeared around a bed, wondering if the energy was some sort of a sugar rush. I slowed down, panting for air.

An elderly couple was sitting on a bench nearby. The woman smiles at me, inviting me to the further end of the bench to rest my feet.

I smiled back, taking the offer. By the time Cade is on another loop (I stopped counting at seven), Matthew was on his third story about the World War II when he joined the army. Elise supplies the stories with her version as the girlfriend who had to stay behind.

"Your boyfriend is in great shape. Does he exercise a lot?" Elise leans to my ear, giving me a meaningful smile.

"That's a fine, young man," Matthew added.

I waved at Cade, cheering him on.

It wasn't dark anymore so I can see the pucker between his brows. He continues with a slowed jog and went on without a word. I laughed. "He's not my boyfriend."

"He's not your man?" Elise asks in honest surprise.

"Nope. I'm just a neighbor ruining the peace in his life."

The couple let out a laugh.

(A/N: If you're interested to read Matthew and Elise's love story during the war, you can head over to my profile Aileedales and click the book Heartstrings and read "Love We Found & Lost")

Cade reappears, doing another loop. "Kathie, come with me. It's my last lap."

I nodded. "Bye, Elise. I loved your stories, Matthew." I waved, jogging toward Cade, relieved that he was just walking. The guy indulges in physical activity like he's going to the Olympics.

We walk side by side. He's already have two bottles of water in hand, thank god. "Did you just made friends back there?"

I look over his shoulder, smiling at Elise and Matthew. "That's what usually happens when you start talking to people."

"Here." He hands me a bottle of water. It was the first time I saw him up close under an adequate lighting. The absence of glasses displayed eyes that were used to hiding behind the boring dark-rimmed rectangular frames. His eyes were not boring. They were... unexpected.

I assumed they would be a bland brown. But, no. His eyes were ice-blue. And they smolder. Now, Cade Parkinson is not exactly plain looking. He had distinctive features like a nose carved prominently to match a strong jaw. He had symmetrical lips. But add in the eyes, and it's just a whole other level of gorgeous.

Well, what dah yah know?

Not only was Cade Parkinson, passably gorgeous. He could be hot too. A stop-traffic kind of hot.

I blink, taking the bottle distractedly. "Thanks."

Cade gazed down to me. His hand reaches up to my face, his thumb gently grazing my cheek. For a moment, I gulped in fear that he's reading my mind. I'm not very proud of what was in it as of the moment.

Then he flicked something off my cheek. "You had dirt on your face. What are you? A kid in a children's park?"

"I did?" I touched my cheek self-consciously.

"Yes." There was a hint of smile to his voice.

My face burns a little. 

12

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