Determination makes me who I am.

I’m not sure what it was about Arden that day that made me ask her to run with me, but the idea slammed into my brain, and I was like a dog with a bone—I couldn’t let it go.

When I first ran into her at the park, I felt her—I felt her pain, her loneliness, and her heartache. I have no idea what makes her feel that way, but it’s there and it’s impossible to ignore.

But after spending an hour talking to her in that coffee shop, I didn’t want to ignore it anymore. Or maybe it wasn’t that I didn’t want to, it was that I couldn’t.

Arden Fontaine draws me in, and I can’t explain why. I don’t want to explain why, and I can only imagine how much it’d freak her out to know that I’m trying. She’s like a skittish rabbit…any sudden moves would send her fleeing.

And I need her.

She’s the perfect person to help me start running again. She’s a runner, and I need running in my life right now more than anything else.

If I happen to help her while she helps me, then it’s just a bonus. At least she wouldn’t be alone as much as she seems to be now.

As a recently blind man, there aren’t many people I can help. Shit, I’m usually the one in desperate need of it myself.

So that’s why I find myself, a month later, pushing open the door of The Art Of Java.

After visiting at least once a week since the first time.

Nitro leads the way, as if he’s been here a million times. The fact that he’s been here half a dozen doesn’t matter. I’ve made it my mission to keep visiting Arden, and it’ll continue until she decides to take a chance on me.

To help me train.

Missions are something I can navigate, sink my teeth into, until they’re completed. Planning and strategizing are familiar territory in a world where everything else in my life is so uncertain.

The more time I spend with her, the more I get to know. And I like what I learn.

Like the fact that she shuffles a deck of cards in her hands between customers. It seems like she always needs her hands to be busy, and her handy deck of cards serves that purpose. Sometimes, when I’m lying in bed at night, I imagine her using those same busy hands to create something beautiful in the back part of her studio.

The movement of her hands is essential to her, and I don’t even think she realizes what she’s doing when she pulls out those cards to play with.

And the way she gives Nitro a treat every single time we visit. She doesn’t have to; in fact, he’s wearing a sign that tells strangers that he’s working and not to bother him on the job. Arden looks right past that sign and treats Nitro like an old friend every single time she sees him. He’s come to lead me a little more urgently, once he realizes we’re on Boughton Street and gets a sense for where we’re heading.

She’s one of his favorite people.

And it’s catching.

“So,” I murmur one morning, as I lean my elbows onto the counter and look in the direction where I know she’s standing.

I’ve never asked her what she looks like, but in my imagination, she’s toned and lean; a runner’s body to go with long hair, and gentle, caring eyes. It’s all just a hunch. I could be off, but something inside me tells me she’s light and fair, and one day I’m going to work up the courage to ask her.

“So?” She’s warmed up to me since I’ve been coming into her shop so often. I ask the same question every time I’m here, so I know damn well she expects what’s coming. Still, I ask.

Her voice is no longer rigid and formal, and I can feel the heat from her body as she leans across the counter toward me. I can almost feel our hands meeting in the middle, but I’ve never touched her, not since that day where it felt like I’d suffer a panic attack just like hers if I didn’t reach out to comfort her.

“So, I’m still hoping you’ll help me out. I need a running partner. I’m pretty sure that partner is you, whether you accept it yet or not.”

A small chuckle escapes her, tinged with a hint of irritation. “Mighty confident there, Mr. Jackson.”

It’s not like the bleakness I sensed in her voice the first few times I interacted with her is gone. More like, she’s masking them under a layer of comfort and ease that never feels quite real.

One thing I notice? She doesn’t bother putting up a façade for anyone else.

With me…she tries.

“What’s the verdict, Arden? One of these days, you’re going to say yes. Because I’m pathetic and I need your help, and you’re the kind of person who helps those less fortunate than yourself.”

She barks out a laugh. “Less fortunate? Okay, Flash…if you say so. Fine. You know what? Fine. Let’s give it a trial run.”

I go still, not moving as I absorb her acceptance. “For real?”

Because even though I’d always known she’d say yes, I couldn’t have been sure that today would be the day.

“Yes, okay? What, you weren’t prepared for a yes? With all the swag you walk around here with?” Her tone becomes slightly teasing, and I crack a grin in response.

“You better be glad you’re on the other side of that counter, sweetheart. Otherwise, I might grab you and pick you up. Maybe even spin you around a few times.”

She sounds further away when she speaks next, and I know it’s because she’s backed up a couple of steps. I wince, silently kicking myself in the ass.

Too much, Flash. Too damn much for this fragile bird of a woman.

“So,” I clear my throat. “When can we start?”

“Start what?”

Another female voice, one that doesn’t resonate inside me the way Arden’s does, even though it’s one I’ve heard twice before, breaks into our conversation.

Arden’s tone changes immediately. The teasing lilt is gone, and she sounds awkward and—guilty?

Why the hell would she feel guilty?

“Hey, Flash.” Arden’s friend and business partner, Brantley, greets me in a friendly tone. She’s casual, more naturally casual than Arden, and her personality is much more laid-back. Arden’s told me she’s the baker of the two, and even though they both have creative personalities, Brantley is the one with a mind for business.

“Hey, Brantley. Your friend here just agreed to be my new running partner.” There’s pride in my voice, because Mission Completed. I set out to accomplish something where Arden was concerned, and now I have.

“You’re seriously going to do it, Ards?” Brantley sounds pleased. “You spend a lot of time running…I’m glad it won’t always be alone anymore.”

“Okay, B. I’m always fine, but I’m helping Flash out because he’s asked me to. Twice a week for a month.” Arden’s tone is stern, but there’s a smile somewhere deep that makes my spirit soar.

Brantley’s voice grows closer, which means she’s leaning on the countertop, just like her friend. I turn my head, trying to aim my face toward the person speaking.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that, Flash.” She chuckles.

“Yes, please give me that. Because it’s my best trait. Maybe the only good one…” I stroke my chin, pretending to think about it.

When Arden laughs, I’m so startled, I pull back. It’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh, and I’ve known her for a month. The sound knocks the breath right out of my chest, and I fist my hands to keep myself from reaching out to touch her face. I’ll never know what she looks like when that sound leaves her, but using my hands to touch her would let me see her, in my own special way.

Clearing my throat, I turn my head slightly so that I’m focused on the place where Arden’s voice comes from.

“Um, how about tomorrow?” Her tone turns completely businesslike, the laughter gone.

I already miss it.

This isn’t productive, Flash. That’s not what this is about. Remember the whole “two broken souls” thing? You’d just drag each other down. Focus on the job you want her to do for you. Focus on that…

Okay. So, she’s turning our arrangement into a formal contract. I can handle that. Right?

Why wouldn’t I be able to handle it? What’s Arden to me, other than a way for me to begin running again? She’s a woman who intrigues me, someone I want to get to know better, but that’s as far as it goes. Both of our situations, as unspoken as they are, make it impossible for me to think of her as anything beyond that.

As if on cue, the unbroken, silent connection that seems to grow in strength between us each time I visit her, pulls tight and strong.

“Look,” she starts, her voice wary. “You need to understand that I know nothing about being a blind person’s guide. I mean, I’ve done some research—”

“Wait.” I hold up a hand to stop her, a big grin dawning across my face. “You did research? On how to help me?”

“Well, yeah.” Her tone is defensive, and if I were a betting man, I’d put money on the fact that she’s blushing.

“That’s…kind of awesome, Arden. And I really do appreciate it. But I actually have a Mobility Specialist. He’s my brother…and he’s a pain in my ass. But he doesn’t run. That’s what I need you for. We’ll make it work, and Nitro will be there too. I just need your eyes. You can handle that, right?”

“She can.” Brantley speaks up, and there’s a slight pause. She grunts, and I can only imagine that Arden elbowed her in the side, which makes me smile.

“Yes. I can handle that. Let’s meet at the entrance to the park tomorrow morning at seven. That’s not too early for you, is it?” There’s a slight challenge in her tone, which I like much better than the business-like one I heard from her moments ago.

Oh, if you only knew, sweetheart. Being in the Air Force for eight years means there’s no hour too early.

I let her have her fun, though. “Yeah, I guess I can make it by seven. I’ll see you tomorrow, Arden.”

And Nitro and I walk out of the shop, me not even trying to hide the grin spreading across my face.