When my alarm goes off at 4 AM, I stumble through the room half-asleep and too tired to worry about the awkwardness of seeing Brendan after last night.

By the time I’m downstairs, however, I feel not just awkward but terrified. Being around Brendan and knowing he’s an option is like walking into a buffet after 20 years of deprivation. I’m not sure I’m capable of restraint, and I have to be.

Yes, Rob and I aren’t technically together. I suppose I could use this as an excuse to do whatever I want right now. But I can’t—not with Brendan. I can’t allow this thing to come between him and Rob, and while I trust Brendan, I don’t trust myself with Brendan. Allowing myself any piece of him is like jumping into the deepest chasm. I can’t begin to imagine how I’d ever climb back out. He only wants temporary, but I’d want everything, just like my mother did, and I’d go through my entire life waiting for it to happen.

There’s no sign of him downstairs, but the crew is already up and raring to go, creating in me that same mix of excitement and queasiness I felt during my own racing days, only now on Olivia's behalf.

I walk over to Will. “Did she sleep?”

He sighs. “A little. Not enough.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

His jaw is set, his face grim. “I wish I knew.”

An endurance run of this length comes with special dangers—renal shutdown, heat stroke, low blood sodium. Western States comes with even more. Much of it takes place in the wilderness, inaccessible except on foot. There’s wildlife and multiple chances to slip off a path and straight down the side of a mountain. There are rivers to ford, and weather you can’t depend on—there’s been snow some years, and in others the heat coming off the rocks has reached 114 degrees. For Will, who was fiercely protective of Olivia long before she became his wife, the anxiety must be excruciating, and for her sake he’s got to pretend it isn’t. Her anxiety would triple if she thought he was worried too.

We watch her walk down the stairs, clad only in running shorts and a singlet, though it can’t be 40 degrees outside. She’s shivering, but I suspect it’s more from nerves than cold.

She tries to cross the room, appearing to see only Will, just as he appears to see only her, but every member of the crew stops her to insist she’s going to win—which is nothing she wants to hear right now because she’s busy assuring herself she will lose. There’s no one alive who can psych herself out the way Olivia can, and by the time she's halfway to us, she looks like she's going to pass out.

"They should know by now just to leave her alone.” Will groans. "I've got to get her out of here. Can you manage these guys?"

I nod. We've done this before, Will and I, he the protector of Olivia's sometimes fragile psyche and me left to man the ship. He breaks through the crowd, draping a blanket over her and pulling her to his side.

“I don’t have it today, Will,” she whispers. “I feel weak.”

“You have it.” He pulls her closer. I think he’d drape his whole body over her like a cape if she’d allow it. "Let's go."

Olivia—who on a normal day takes orders from no one—leans against him and follows blindly. I've watched it before, but today it makes my eyes well over. In part because I'm so happy for them both, that they found each other. And in part because it reminds me what I've lost: Olivia is able to lean on Will because he's never let her down. I once thought I had the same with Rob, but he’s done nothing but let me down these past few months. Maybe even for the past four years, though I haven’t seen it until now.

I get the crew out the door, with Brendan still nowhere to be found. We head down to the mountain’s base, where the race will start, and then begin the process of double-checking everything. Given that we’re going to end up a hundred miles from where we began, leaving something necessary behind could present a real problem later in the day. And the whole time I’m taking inventory, I’m trying not to think about Brendan, but I seem unable to think of anything else.

God. What was wrong with me last night? I was ready to do anything he wanted. Without a condom, for God’s sake. And with Brendan, who never sleeps with anyone twice. Who, if Rob and I work things out, will be the best man at our wedding. It would have ruined everything.

And yet I think about that kiss, and I know I regret the interruption. I’ll be thinking about that kiss on my deathbed and wishing, just once in my life, I’d allowed myself to have what I actually want.

It's 10 minutes until the 5 AM start when Olivia appears, a grim, forced smile on her face. Everyone hugs her, which she bears with something approaching grace, and then she slings the Camelback over her shoulder and walks toward the start with Will still at her side, a cross between bodyguard and avenging angel.

"You think she's okay?" Brendan asks, coming up behind me.

My whole body stiffens, as if I need to shield myself from him, whereas he seems completely relaxed, as if nothing has happened.

I tell him briskly that Olivia’s always like this before races, and then I head in another direction. Maybe he’s capable of putting it all behind him. I suspect it’s going to take a little more effort on my part.

* * *

Once the starting gun fires, we climb into the van and head to the first checkpoint. I make a point of sitting in the front of the van with Lee, a runner from Seattle who volunteered to come out and, like myself, will be running a portion of the race with Olivia. He’s cute in a crunchy, endurance-runner kind of way—wiry and muscular, hair down to his shoulders, sweet. He might have appealed to me before Brendan. Now I barely realize he’s male.

“You’re running the Cal Loop, right?” he asks.

I tell him I’m nervous about it, and he reminds me that Olivia will have run 70 miles by the time she gets to me, which is exactly what I keep telling myself, though it doesn’t help. And then our conversation turns to college track, which doesn’t help much either, as I was the slowest girl on the team and Olivia was the fastest.

He’s still talking about it 24 miles later, when we arrive at the first crew checkpoint. He stays by my side the entire time we’re carrying gear and setting up, and even though I’m a little tired of discussing all things related to running, I appreciate that he’s helping me avoid someone else. It’s warm enough now that Brendan’s down to a T-shirt. Just the curve of his biceps is enough to make me feel weak. Avoiding that will be my greatest accomplishment today.

* * *

At 8:52 AM, Olivia blows in, looking like she just jogged across a parking lot instead of running a hard 24 miles through the mountains.

“You’re in the lead, babe,” says Will with a broad grin.

She smiles, collapsing in a chair. “Don’t jinx me.” But she’s over her early-morning qualms. He pulls her shoes off to check for blisters and changes her socks. “Where are my babies?” she asks.

“On the way. Mom called, and everyone just woke up. They’ll be at the next stop. You okay?” Will asks, raising a brow and nodding in the direction of her chest. “You’re looking a little swollen there.”

“I fed her this morning before we left,” she says. “I’m fine.”

“Oh my God,” Brendan says with disgust. “I thought you were talking about Olivia’s feet.”

Olivia scowls at him. “With all the shit we’ve heard you talk about, you’re giving us crap for discussing breast milk?”

“Yes. Jesus. The only thing worse is when Mom and Peter talk about needing ‘alone time’, like none of us knows what that means.”

“Nursing is a part of life, Brendan. You’ll see when you have kids of your own.”

“Which is never happening, thank Christ,” he replies.

Remember that, Erin. Listen to the words coming out of his mouth.

He doesn’t want a wife. He doesn’t even want a girl he’s slept with more than once. If I remember nothing else, I need to remember all of those things if I catch myself wanting to think he could be more.

After Olivia takes off, we begin packing down to drive to the next crew stop, 30 miles ahead. Lee is helping me fold chairs, telling me about some bar they saw driving in, when suddenly Brendan is in front of us both, looming over Lee, smiling at him the same way he did that football player—like he’s two seconds from throwing a punch.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks me, though it sounds less like a question than a demand.

I nod, following him in silence toward the van. He opens the back, and I sit on the tail, avoiding his gaze.

“What’s up?” I ask.

His eyes assess me as always. He looks as if he knows everything I’ve thought in the past 24 hours, and I blush reflexively.

“You tell me.”

“I don’t know what happened last night,” I say.

“I could draw you a diagram.”

“I mean I don’t know why it happened and why it went so far. But we were drinking.” A lame excuse. And one that doesn’t exactly explain why it’s all I’m thinking about now. “And we stopped before it went too far. So it doesn’t count.”

“Doesn’t count? Erin, we didn’t stop. Matthew stopped us.”

I blow out a frustrated exhale. “What do you want me to say, Brendan?”

He steps closer. He is too close, again. “I want to know what you’re thinking.” His voice is low and husky, sending a shiver up my spine—one I need to kill, stat.

“I’m thinking it was just a tiny drunk mistake, and we pretend it never happened, and everyone’s fine.”

He nods, his shoulders sagging with either relief or disappointment, I’m not sure which. “Neither of us mentions it to Rob, right?”

“Right.” I confirm.

I look up at him and forget everything I’ve just said. His eyes have darkened and now dip to my mouth, as if he’s just come across something he’s starved for. It’s probably how I’m looking at him too.

I hop off the tailgate, and we close the back doors.

“Do me a favor,” he says. “Stay away from Lee.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s harmless.”

“Yeah, he is,” Brendan agrees. “But I’m not. So stay away from him.”