Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest High #7)

I was lit up like a starving dog that saw its first steak, ever. I was almost salivating, but I was distracted at the same time.

“You were supposed to sleep a full night last night.” He watched me with narrowed eyes, his black jacket zipped all the way up under his jaw and whistle in hand. He dropped it, letting it fall back against his chest. “Kade. Did you—”

“Yes, yes.” I waved him off. “I’ll be fine. I’m ready.”

Had I slept all night? No.

Would my running suffer because of it? No.

Or, I hoped not.

I scanned the rest of the runners. I’d run this race before. This was my second time at the Olympics. And I ran. That’s what I did. Granted, that’s what all of these people did, but it had been my life source at one point.

I knew once I walked to that starting line, everything else would leave my mind.

I was born to do this. I would be fine.

I told my trainer this, and he nodded, but I knew he didn’t quite believe me.

He stepped back and pointed to the starting line. “Go and kick ass. Again.”

I clipped my head in a nod. That was what I would do. When it came to running, that was all I did. I went and finished my stretching. My mind wandered off, but as I took my place at the line, I looked over and saw the reason for my scattered thoughts.

The first warning sounded.

I had good reason to daydream.

“Set!”

Mason waved from where he stood, with our daughter in his arms. We’d named her Logan Malinda Kade—we called her Maddy.

BOOM! The gun went off.

And I ran.

The end.