It's simple. If you're alone, you avoid heartbreak.
At least that is what newly eligible bachelor, Dallas Grant, believed. He had no intentions of finding love again, but life's unpredictable timing and odd occurrences tossed young renaissance woma...
Say, you never felt magic? Then tell me, how did all of this happen? How did I get wrapped in your mind? It ain't no illusion or sign, no reason why. It's just magic.
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"Alright, I'm all out of flyers," Chani exhaled as her jog toward Sloan and I came to a halt. She leaned forward, resting her hands onto her knees as she softly heaved until her breath evened. "I can cover another block...or five, if you need me to."
Sloan scowled at her offer. "Remind me why you're voluntarily running across Manhattan again?"
"I told you already. I need to practice every chance I get, and this is the perfect opportunity."
"Oh, I know why you're running right now. I mean, why the hell are you volunteering to run in the got damn New York City Marathon? Is teaching a bunch of brats not enough stress for you?"
I snickered and shook my head as Chani stood tall and waved her off.
I thought it was absolutely dope that Chani was challenging herself and her body to commit to something of this capacity, though this wasn't her first rodeo. The last time she ran was beside her father in 2017. It was tradition to join him since she turned eighteen, the year he decided to become more health conscious after being diagnosed with a heart disease. It was a risk he willingly took, running twenty plus miles every year, and one that deepened their bond until the day he died.
Chani put her favorite running shoes away that same day, and this year was her first time since his death that she returned to the sport. Which would explain why she was going so hard.
"Because she wants to," I answered swiftly on Chani's behalf then winked at her. Her smile was meek but nevertheless one from a place of appreciation. She didn't like recalling the story, which is why I knew and Sloan didn't, but also because we may have been a tad bit closer.
We'd never tell her that.
"Anyway, thank you both for helping me get the word out. I mailed all the invites yesterday and posted on my socials, even Facebook though it was against my will," I joked, well sort of. I hated that app and only logged in and shared the news of my grand opening because Sloan and Chani suggested it. That was the only way to get the news out to the elders. "Now I just need to go make a few phone calls to confirm that the food and DJ are in place, and I think we're good."
"I thought you scheduled them," Chani said lowly as she swiped away the perspiration on her forehead. "Why do you need to confirm? That sounds like extra work."
"Pot calling the kettle black," Sloan mumbled, and Chani's head snapped her way.
"You know, that's lowkey racist coming from you."
"Ma'am, you're biracial."
"Enough, Grace and Frankie!" They both glared at me, but I ignored the heat of their eyes and carried on. "My friend actually did it for me. I'm just following up."
