About ten minutes later, we were running down the block. About five minutes after that, I was begging him to let me quit.
“No! Stop whining,” he told me. Again. “You agreed to this.”
“I know. I know! Fine.” I pouted. “Well, maybe I can finally get sexy enough so I won’t feel so bad about my body.”
He stopped running and turned toward me, his hands on his hips, his mouth gaping. “You don’t think you’re sexy?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure I am. Everybody wants a piece of this!” I waved my hands over my body. “I mean, they are lining up.”
“They who?” he asked, watching me intently.
“Lots of hot, sexy me—people. Lots of hot, sexy people are lining up to date me.” I laughed nervously. I wondered if he’d noticed my near slip-up. But, maybe it was time. I wasn’t even sure anymore why I wasn’t te
