Mercifully, an all-day meeting that kept her behind the closed doors of Trendsetters’ largest conference room saved him from further encounters. He could use some time away from her while he determined how he would pilot his way through these feelings.

Instead of hitting the gym after work, Daniel changed into a pair of basketball shorts before leaving the office, then parked along the banks of the Colorado River that meandered through downtown Austin. His feet pounded the pavement in time to the rhythmic beats of the eighties Run DMC track that had just come up on his “Short Runs” playlist. He accelerated his pace after recognizing that he’d adjusted to match the song’s slower tempo. Concentrating on his breathing pattern, he inhaled for every three steps, exhaled for every two. The sweet burn flowing through his quads and hamstrings signaled that he’d finally hit his stride.

He took to the grass to bypass a woman pushing a double stroller on the concrete path that wound along the riverbank. Families who’d come out to enjoy the relief the early cool front had brought packed the greenbelt lining both sides. They reclined on blankets strewn across the ground, their barking dogs leaping about. College students from UT or one of the other half-dozen colleges and universities nearby tossed Frisbees, Rollerbladed, or studied on the freshly trimmed grass.

Daniel mentally smacked down the complaints his brain conjured regarding the crowds. He could have easily gone to the gym to exercise, or picked one of the running paths near the apartment he’d been issued. He was the one who had chosen to come here.

He slowed to a stop and bent over, pulling the earbuds from his ears. He flattened his palms against his thighs, drawing shallow breaths.

This shit was getting out of hand.

He straightened and peered out into the distance, surveying the buildings of downtown Austin. His eyes focused on the upper floors of one glass-and-steel high-rise in particular that sat a few blocks from the river.

God, what was he doing?

He’d already decided that he could no longer pretend their coffee station encounters were by chance, but relegating them to a harmless morning ritual made him seem quirky, not creepy. Did he think Samiah would find it harmless if she spotted him jogging in her neighborhood?

“She’s going to think you’re a fucking lunatic stalker,” he huffed out underneath his labored breaths.