The bump on her head has faded by the next Tuesday, even if the memory of the embarrassing incident with the door has not. Katniss takes off on a run from her apartment, heading in the general direction of The Hob. It's only about two miles from her place, and she's not quite ready to stop so she keeps right on going when she reaches the brewery. She can circle back and end up there again after another mile or so.
She's at least another mile and a half into her run when she sees him running toward her. At first she isn't sure if it's actually Peeta, but the closer his figure gets, the better she can make out those blond curls and the toned physique that she's practically memorized from weeks of pretending not to stare at him. She can't imagine why he would be running toward The Hob, especially since the running club is set to start running from there in about an hour.
For a second she thinks about turning around, or just ducking in between two houses and waiting until he passes, but she hesitates and then he's close enough to recognize her so it's too late. She can tell that he's surprised to see her coming toward him as well. But his face lights up in a big grin and he slows to a jog as they come face to face on the sidewalk. She has no choice but to stop and acknowledge him, no matter how mortified she still is about running into the glass door and no matter how badly she imagines she must look in her sweat soaked tank top right now.
"Katniss!" he greets. "How are you?"
"Good," she replies. "Just…" she gestures vaguely back toward where she ran from, catching her breath. "…finishing up."
"Headed back to The Hob?" he asks, and somehow he doesn't seem the least bit winded from his run. She nods.
"Same," he says, still smiling brightly at her. "If you're ready to turn around we can go together."
"What are you doing here?" she blurts out, not meaning for it to sound as rude as it must.
He chuckles softly, ignoring her abruptness. "Ah, actually I'm having some work done on my Jeep so I'm on foot for a few days. And it's not really that far."
"Where do you live?" Katniss asks, and then realizing how awkward that sounds she retracts. "I mean…I live nearby, too. Uh, never mind." She stares at her feet as she scrapes the toes of her New Balance along the sidewalk, first one foot, then the other.
"Really? That's cool," says Peeta. "And convenient, since Gale is probably always at the brewery."
Her head snaps up and she gives him what must be the most confused look, "Huh?" she says.
It's hard to tell, since he's been running, but Katniss thinks Peeta may be blushing. "Um, well, should we take off?" he says, gesturing toward The Hob.
"Sure," she says and together they start a slow jog heading in the direction she just came from.
It's quiet for several minutes, except for the sound of their feet hitting the pavement and their breathing. She's just debating if it would be rude to put her ear buds back in to listen to her iPod when he breaks the silence. "So, how many miles do you usually cover?" he says, glancing over at her and then back to the road in front of him.
"About four," she says. "Sometimes more."
She knows she's probably supposed to ask him a question now, to be polite, but she's just not very good at this sort of thing. Practically every time she talks to him she says something stupid, or she chokes on her own words. This conversation is just about the most successful one they've had and she's not really willing to risk messing it up, especially since they still have about a mile to cover before she can escape his undivided attention.
It's quiet for a few more minutes and then he speaks up again. "You should run with the club sometime. We're always looking for new members and you're already at The Hob," he says. She makes the mistake of glancing over at him and he smiles at her. "And there's snacks after," he says, in a teasing voice.
But she's having a hard time focusing on what he's saying because she's watching the sweat that is glistening on his temple….and Oh my God is that the pale blond beginnings of a beard on his face? It looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days and it's just the right amount of scruff to make him look a little more rugged than usual.
"So what do you think?" he's asking and she has to really focus to remember what exactly he's talking about. Her eyes narrow and she bites her lip in concentration.
"Sure, yeah," she answers. "Maybe sometime." But if her heart rate right now is any indication, she should probably never run with Peeta Mellark again.
….
He doesn't leave with the other runners when they take off from The Hob a half hour later. Instead he sits right down two seats from Katniss at the bar where she has parked herself for the evening. She glances at him curiously and he looks at her with what appears to be a mixture of shyness and hesitation. He's just opening his mouth to speak when she dives down toward her feet and starts digging around in her bag for her book. She hears him clear his throat and when she's upright again, he's drumming his fingers on the bar lightly, his eyes flitting around the bar looking everywhere but her.
Gale comes from the back at that moment. "Oh hey Peet," he says. "Sorry I just stepped into the back for a sec. What do you need? How come you aren't out running with the rest of the group?"
"Ah, actually I ran a little earlier," Peeta replies, glancing over at Katniss, who happens to be stealing a look at him at that very moment. She quickly averts her eyes and tries to focus on the book she has perched on the edge of the bar top.
"Well in that case, can I offer you a post-run drink?" Gale asks. "I was just about to pour one for Katniss here."
At her name, Katniss snaps her head up and stares at Gale. The look she gives him clearly says, "What the hell are you doing?" and "Stop now or I'm going to kill you later."
"Sure," Peeta says, although he doesn't sound overly sure. Gale pours too tall ambers and sets one in front of Katniss and the other in front of the seat directly next to hers. Peeta hesitates before sliding over to take the stool next to Katniss, in front of the offered drink. He smiles at her before lifting the glass and taking a long sip.
"I don't think I've had the Amber yet," Peeta remarks. "You guys sure know what you're doing back there. This is delicious."
"Thanks," Gale replies. "It's Katniss' favorite."
"If by favorite, you mean the only one of your beers that I'll drink," Katniss quickly retorts.
Gale snorts. "Be wary of this one," he gestures toward Katniss but he's talking to Peeta. "She's a little rough around the edges. Likes to give her friends hell all the time."
"Maybe I just need new friends," Katniss tries to sound more abrasive than she actually feels and she bites her lip to keep a smile from forming. She and Gale love to play with each other this way. Even if he is irritating her right now, he's still her best friend.
Peeta laughs, a little uneasily and just barely shakes his head. "I don't know, she seems friendly enough to me, but you would know better, Gale. You two have been together—how long?"
"We are NOT together," Katniss says forcefully before Gale has a chance to respond.
Gale's laughter comes out in a loud bark. "Don't make it sound like such an insult, Catnip," he says. He looks at Peeta, then. "But, nah, man, we're not together…like that. We've just known each other for a long, long time."
"Oh," is all Peeta says and then he seems to become very interested in taking a rather long drink of his beer.
Gale chuckles again lightly and makes one last swipe across the bar top with the rag he's been holding. "Well I'll leave you two to your drinks, then. I have to grab a few more things in the back." He winks at Katniss and walks away, leaving her to stew over her beer with a bright red face.
"So," Peeta chances. "Why don't you like the other beers that Gale makes?"
She grips her glass tightly in her hand, takes another tiny sip before answering. "Um, I don't know. I'm not really a beer drinker, I guess? Well, I mean, I do like to drink beer but this stuff is so…" she struggles to explain herself.
"I know what you mean," Peeta rescues her. She glances up at him now and he's rotated his body a little toward her and is focused on her with those piercing blue eyes. "I can only drink one or two because they tend to be heavier than the generic beer you can buy at the grocery."
"Yes! Exactly!" she exclaims, glad that someone actually agrees with her. It seems that everyone else she knows is a huge craft beer enthusiast and can't understand why she can only stomach one at a time. In her excitement in finally having an ally on this point, and perhaps a little bit because of the glass of fresh brewed Amber liquid itself, she begins to let her guard down just a bit.
"So have you tried the stout?" she asks Peeta. "It's really awful." She tries and fails not to notice the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips after he takes another sip of his beer. Peeta laughs. "Shhh, be careful. The master brewer could come back at any moment."
She laughs, too and she notices that Peeta's eyes seem to crinkle a bit more and his smile grows a little wider.
It's a little bit hard for her to admit, but she's actually enjoying herself, talking like this with Peeta, when the runners from the running club start to trickle back in, finished for the evening. Peeta glances behind him and when he spots Delly among the group that has just arrived he excuses himself from Katniss for a moment and heads over to greet Delly.
Katniss tries not to watch the interaction between Peeta and Delly. Delly is laughing and she has her hand on Peeta's arm, while Peeta is animatedly telling her a story. Katniss turns away, defeated. She had forgotten about Delly. Smiling, bubbly, perfect Delly, whom Peeta was most likely dating or if not, then he probably wanted to be.
She's so busy glowering into her beer and thinking that she should have known that she's startled when he slips back onto the seat next to hers. "Did I scare you?" he asks, a hint of laughter in his voice. "What were you thinking about? You looked so serious."
And just like that she's a deer in headlights again, staring at Peeta Mellark and wondering what in the world she could possibly say that will not sound as awkward as her reality: which is that she's beginning to think she may have a mad crush on this boy.