A/N: So, I'm basically procrastinating on "Christmas in July," as I've hit a bit of a roadblock…so wrote this little piece instead. Set somewhere during Wade and Zoe's "casual monogamy" phase.

Run

Zoe woke up a few minutes before her alarm, slipped out of bed, and dressed quickly. She was tying her shoes when Wade stirred, draping an arm across the slight depression she had just recently occupied. Finding it empty, he opened one eye.

"Where you goin', girl?"

"For a run," she replied. "You can go back to sleep."

Wade looked at her like she'd sprouted a second head. "You're gonna leave all this—" he indicated both the bed and himself—"for a run at…8:00 on a Sunday morning? What's got you so antsy?"

Zoe looked a little longingly at the bed, and shook her head. "If I wait another hour, it'll be too hot. And I really need the exercise."

"What d'you call last night, Doc? I can tell you that your heart rate was raised considerably. Had to be worth at least a 5K…why don't you come on back here and we'll make it 10?" The smirk he wore did funny things to her insides (which, unfortunately, he well knew) and she was tempted…so tempted. But it just wouldn't do for Wade Kinsella to think she'd drop everything the minute she saw his crooked grin.

"Maybe later." It was worth it to see the surprise on his face. Then, out of nowhere—"You can come with me, if you want."

Wait—what? He didn't "come with her" anywhere but on a round trip from bed to Lavon's kitchen and back. Nobody in Bluebell had seen them together (not together together), and Zoe was pretty sure there would be an epic explosion of gossip if she and Wade were seen going anyplace at this hour.

He raised one eyebrow at her invitation. "I dunno, doc," he drawled, folding his arms behind his head, which gave her an excellent view of the sculpted chest she had trailed her lips down last night (ahem; focus, Zoe). "I'm pretty comfortable here."

Zoe knew she should feel like she dodged a bullet, but something in her goaded him, "You're just afraid I'd outrun you."

Wade threw back his head and laughed. "Nice try, Doc. I ran the 40 in under five seconds in high school, and just last year I took second place in the Whole Hog Triathlon over in Fillmore."

"What were the events—beer chugging, arm wrestling, and Grand Theft Auto?"

"All right. That's enough outta you." He crawled out of her still-warm sheets and over to where she stood by the side of the bed. He reached out to grab her, but she was just a touch quicker. "Nope! You'll have to catch me first!" she yelled over her shoulder as she sprinted for the door.

She was jogging down the road that led out of the plantation when someone grabbed her from behind. Screaming, she instinctively threw an elbow right into her attacker's stomach.

"OOF!" groaned Wade. "Jesus, Zoe—"

"You idiot!" she cried, turning around. "Never grab a New Yorker from behind! Don't you know they teach us self-defense starting in kindergarten?"

She felt a little guilty, looking at him with his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths. "You OK, Cowboy?"

"Fine," he wheezed. A few more breaths and he managed to stand up straight. He took a few tentative steps, then started jogging down the road, and Zoe fell into step beside him.

"So, how far you thinkin' of goin'?"

"I usually do about four miles."

"Four miles oughtta get us to the Butter Stick and back. Wanna race for who gets the first buttermilk muffin…or would you rather keep to the highway and hit Waffle World? It's on the road to Daphne."

His tone was light, but Zoe knew this was a test of sorts—how much was she willing to risk?

The thing was, their "arrangement" made her surprisingly happy. Wade knew every inch of her by now, not only what she liked (loved), but what could make her giggle or leave her gasping. She was bolder than she'd ever been with anyone, and every time he called out her name she felt a thrill that was anything but "casual." Then, too, they were spending almost as much time hanging out on his couch or hers, watching movies, playing games, as they did in bed; the night before, she had skunked him at blackjack and the look on his face was priceless.

But if everyone knew about them, would they lose the sense of excitement that came with sneaking around? (There was this one time, in the Rammer Jammer's storeroom, when Wanda almost caught them—but she probably shouldn't think about that right now.) And, God forbid, if the bench ladies got wind of things, they'd be asking if they'd booked the church yet and weren't morning weddings lovely? They definitely didn't need that.

"Cat got your tongue?" Wade looked sideways at her, as they came out of the plantation to the main road. At her continued silence, he commented acerbically, "Waffle World's to the right."

She nodded, and thinking it might be better to put a bit of space between them, stretched her stride. "See you there!" she crowed, grinning back at him.

But she only made it about a hundred yards before he overtook her and left her in the dust, his feet pounding on the gravel. His form was, she admitted to herself, excellent—he ran like he had trained for years, smooth and sure. Where had this come from? How could she spend several hours a day (and night) with this man and never know this about him?

Absorbed in these thoughts, she pushed herself to her limit to try and come a little closer, but the distance kept widening, his red tank and grey shorts almost disappearing in the morning mist that would soon burn off. C'mon, Zoe, she thought, and demanded that her tired legs give just a little more—

She never saw the pothole, only felt her ankle twist viciously, her momentum causing her to skid painfully on one knee as she went down, hard.

"Wade!" she cried, but he was probably too far away to hear. She looked down, saw the incongruous angle of her foot and the joint already starting to swell, and knew she was in trouble.

TO BE CONTINUED

Chapter Two up soon…would love your feedback!