2
The first time the running club is scheduled to meet at The Hob, Katniss purposefully avoids the place. But when the next week rolls around, she can't help but be curious to see exactly what kind of people show up or if they even will show up. She sits in her usual place up at the bar and watches as a cheerful blond girl dressed in running gear sets up her laptop on one of the small outdoor tables, along with some name tags and markers.
Soon others gather, most of them in their mid to late twenties, and a few slightly older or younger than average. All of them wear running gear. They stop at the table where the happy blond, whose name tag reads, "Delly" in large, bubble letters, adds their name to registration, then they join the rest of the group who are in various stages of stretching or just socializing.
Katniss stares into her beer and pretends not to listen to their conversations, which seem to center around their careers and their pets. Not until they all take off on their run, staggered but together as a unit, does she spin around on her stool to openly take in the participants. Most are very fit, probably already avid runners and looking for companionship while they exercise. Some are obviously couples or close friends, running side by side.
A few minutes after the last of the runners has taken off, the bar slips back into its usual weekday silence.
"What do you think? You going to join them Sweetheart?" Haymitch smirks at her and she scowls at him in return.
"Not a chance," she volleys back. "I don't need company when I run. It is, by nature, a solitary exercise."
Haymitch only shrugs at her and goes back to reading his newspaper.
But despite her outward disinterest, Katniss stays until the runners return. The first few show up several minutes before the main group and stand outside catching their breath and stretching near the sign-in table. She glances over, casually assessing them, when she accidentally locks eyes with a pair of stunning blue ones. They hold one another's gaze for a beat too long before Katniss looks away, her face burning.
When she sneaks a glance back, the blue-eyed boy is not looking her way anymore. Instead he's laughing at something one of the other runners is saying, and she takes the opportunity to fully assess him. His short, wavy hair is pale blond and he's not overly tall, although he has at least 6 inches of height on her. He's also built like an athlete, but not in an over-muscled, steroid-effect sort of way.
Sweat trickles down his neck and into the top of his t-shirt, and Katniss sucks in a breath when she sees him lift the bottom of the shirt and use it to mop off his face and neck, revealing his perfectly toned ab muscles in the process.
Guiltily, Katniss looks away from the group. She should not be staring at people. Especially not people that make her stomach flip and her skin heat so uncomfortably. She keeps her face fixed on the book in her lap until she no longer hears the laughter and conversation from the club and she's sure they're all gone and it's safe to look up again.
…
The following Tuesday when Katniss arrives at The Hob, Delly is not set up with her laptop to greet the runners. There are still name tags and markers left out on one of the tables, though. This time, there are also orange slices, soft pretzels and water bottles on another long table, awaiting the returning runners, Katniss presumes.
"Nice touch," she scoffs, throwing a thumb back over her shoulder toward the snacks as she approaches the bar where Gale is restocking supplies.
"You know can have some of the snacks if you want," Gale teases her. "I know you're dying to join that club."
Katniss rolls her eyes. "I'm not interested," she mutters.
Gale stops and rests his hands on the bar directly across from where she sits, studying her openly. She feels her face turning red at his scrunity. "What?" she growls, louder than she intended. But Gale only chuckles and shakes his head.
"You know, one of these days…" he begins, but stops to direct his attention to someone approaching the bar top. "Hey Peet," he says instead, sticking his hand over the top of the bar to shake the hand of the boy approaching.
Katniss turns to see who has taken Gale's attention away from her and sees that the blue-eyed, blond who caught her eye the other day is now smiling and shaking Gale's hand.
"Hey," the boy who is apparently named Peet says to Gale. "You sure you don't mind us setting up the snacks?"
"Nah, man," Gale replies. "We're just glad to have you guys here. Good for business."
Suddenly, Gale turns and gestures to Katniss, who belatedly realizes she has been staring at the two men throughout the entire interaction. "Peeta Mellark, meet Katniss Everdeen. Katniss, this is Peet," Gale says. "He's helping head up the running club."
Peeta puts his hand out and Katniss finds herself offering hers in return. Her hand slips neatly into his large one and she feels instantly warmer from his touch. "It's nice to meet you Katniss," he says.
She thinks she murmurs something in reply, but she's lost all capacity to think straight. He is breathtakingly beautiful. She is sure she has never seen eyes that exhibit such depth and seem to actually, literally sparkle with joy. He's wearing a black concert t-shirt that highlights his toned chest and contrasts with his pale hair, which is currently tousled in a way that makes it appear as if he just rolled out of bed.
As soon as their hands break contact, Katniss' eyes skitter away, looking anywhere but at Peeta. He is almost too attractive to look at for very long, she thinks. And she has never thought that about another man before.
She hears Gale and Peeta continue a brief conversation before Peeta walks away, but Katniss pretends to be preoccupied with checking the messages on her phone. When she finally looks up, Gale is smirking at her from behind the bar.
"What?" she says.
"I didn't say anything," Gale says, but he's clearly laughing at her. And she knows he's making fun of her when he hands her a stack of bar napkins and says, "Here. For the drool."
She responds by picking up her glass of water and her book and moving to a nearby table, with her back to the bar.
….
Peeta is apparently in charge of the check-in table tonight and he greets everyone who shows up to run with a friendly smile and easy banter. From her table, Katniss can't help but sneak glances his way every few minutes. His enthusiasm is both unnerving and contagious.
When it seems like most everyone who is going to run tonight has arrived, Peeta stacks up the name tags and gathers the markers and moves to toss them in a box where Gale has been keeping them behind the bar. Katniss tries to keep her eyes carefully trained on her book when he passes, but she can't help but look up just as he reaches her table. He's looking right at her, almost as if he was waiting for her to look up.
He smiles widely at her but doesn't stop walking. She hears him tossing the name tags and markers into the box. She tries, she really does, but she can't help but stare at the way his backside fills out his athletic shorts as he makes his way past her again to head back outside.