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high cheekbones and those dimples again, then she walked away toward the treadmills. As she waited for one to become available, she turned on her iPod to the “workout songs” she’d downloaded. As Kelly Clarkson belted out “Walkaway,” Katie still couldn’t get over running into Peter Wells this way, and she was still surprised how good-looking he was. She didn’t remember him being bad-looking, but there used to be something awkward about him. Maybe it was just because he was very thin and his long, grungy bangs used to hang down over his eyes. Now he was in great shape, with nice arms and shoulders, beautiful blond hair, and he seemed like a really great guy, too. He was Heather’s age—five years older than Katie, which made him, what, twenty-seven now?—so Katie never knew him very well, but she remembered how she used to see him in the icecream parlor. Sometimes he’d have the latest video he’d rented from the video store next door and they’d talk about movies. She saw him around town all the time—riding his bike, skateboarding, or hanging out at the library. He seemed to be alone a lot. She remembered vaguely that his family had moved away—probably when he was about seventeen.
    A treadmill freed up. Katie did some light stretches and then started her workout, walking for about a minute before starting to jog. She was still thinking about Peter, about the huge coincidence of running into him in New York City, and how it felt kind of nice and homey to see a familiar face, and then her mood soured as she remembered what had happened to her last night and how Andy could belong to this gym. She looked to her left and right, not seeing Andy anywhere, but then she looked straight ahead, at the mirrored wall, and saw Peter, behind the front desk, watching her. He had a blank, distant expression, and she wondered if he was actually looking at
her
, or at something else in the mirror, and then she smiled and he smiled back, showing off those adorable dimples.

FIVE
     
    Katie was so beautiful, so perfect in every way, that it was hard for Peter to stop staring at her. He loved the way her legs and arms moved as she ran, and the way her ponytail bobbed back and forth against her back. She had a great back—smooth, muscular, and lightly tanned. He forced himself to look away a few times, because he didn’t want to make it too obvious, but she was just impossible to resist.
    After her workout, she did some more stretches, then went over to the mats to do abs. As she did crunches on the exercise ball, he watched, loving the way her lips parted with each exhale. He was hoping she’d meant what she said about exchanging numbers and getting together sometime, that she wasn’t just being nice.
    When she finished doing abs, she did some isometric-type exercises, and then came over to him at the desk.
    “Good workout?” he asked.
    “Yeah…not bad.”
    Even sweaty she looked amazing, much better than in those pictures of her he’d seen on the Internet. Standing next to her he felt a spark between them, an energy that was so intense he knew she must’ve been feeling it as well. He had an impulse to screw all of his plans, to tell her straight off how he felt about her so that they could start their lives together, but he resisted it. He’d planned everything carefully and knew it would be crazy to try to rush things now.
    They chatted for about five minutes about Lenox and aboutpeople they both knew—a typical whatever-happened-to, I-wonder-where, oh-my-God-do-you-remember conversation. Then things progressed even faster than Peter had anticipatéd. Instead of having to ask for Katie’s number, she spontaneously wrote it on the back of a Metro Sports Club business card and said, “You have to call me so we can hang out sometime.” Peter, trying not to let his delight show, but trying not to sound too nonchalant, either, said with the perfect balance, “Yeah, definitely.”
    The rest of the morning, Peter