Chapter 2 Wendy’s POV

Scott Daniels on the other hand was 6’3” and some change. He had this unassuming, almost oblivious charm about him. A true guys guy but so gentle and tender with women. The two couldn’t be more opposite in that regard.

He was the guy that girls THREW themselves at and he just didn’t notice. He was kind and warm and thoughtful but so amazingly unaware at how attractive he really was. He was more Gosling but…. meat head? He had a sandy blond short hair, strong jawline, very tan, solid like a tree, and had a smouldery way about him. His folks were from Jersey and transplanted to Texas so he could grow up in a slower environment. So he had the most unique blended accent he called “Tex-ersey”.

Unlike Grady, Scott had a more traditional view on women and marriage. He envisioned the white picket fence life but still craved the freedom to drop everything and go on a whim. Since Scott and I both worked remotely, we loved the flexibility to pick up and travel spontaneously, working from wherever we ended up.

Scott had a girl that he dated in college, Carrie, that so badly wanted him to propose. She was bright and athletic came from a great family in Texas as well. They also met freshman year and bonded over being so far from home. They were each others comfort to start and then the more obvious romance blossomed. Scott was her perfect ‘on paper guy’. They were the two that were supposed to have that perfect college love story that most girls dream of.

However, she struggled with the fact that Scott preferred to spend time with me on weekends to watch movies or trash tv in total silence than to go out with her and her friends to the bars as an excuse to fill her i*******m feed.

I guess I would be annoyed if I were in her shoes too. I mean, in full transparency Scott would often, in the most respectful way, come and lay in bed with me and watch tv in my room. We would snuggle - in the most platonic way. Totally clothed and no rouge touching.

When we graduated she assumed he would either stay in the Durham area or move back to Texas with her to be close to both of their families and raise kids and live their perfect lives. Needless to say she broke up with him when he told her he was moving to Boston with Me and Grady. Boston was not apart of her perfect story and clearly she was not apart of Scott’s.

Before making any assumptions, let me clarify: we are all friends—best friends, but more than that. We do everything together because we simply enjoy being in each other’s presence. After school, after breakups, after parties, during breakfast, during parties and even grocery shopping, we were always there for one another. When Grady got a job in Boston after graduation, it felt like a goodbye that none of us were ready for. So, Scott and I found remote jobs, moved to Boston, and we bought a townhouse, ensuring we could continue living together for the foreseeable future. It was the most natural decision we made outside of choosing our sport.

We met freshman year in the same recruiting class, thrown together by schedules and circumstances. From the start, we stuck together like glue, inseparable in a way that felt effortless—like home. Safe, familiar. And I think they felt it too.

While Grady and I never talked about it, I’m pretty sure I’m exactly his type—because he’s never once tried to sleep with me. The closest we ever came was our junior year when he got too drunk at a senior send-off party we were all at and he kissed me. It happened, and then it didn’t. We never acknowledged it again. But it was electric for sure.

He’s bought me tampons in the middle of a date with another girl. If that doesn’t prove there was nothing sexual between us, I don’t know what does.

After finally getting up and putting on some leggings and a hoodie, I threw my hair into a long ponytail, secured my bangs with a headband and stepped into my sneakers and I was ready to go.

I made my way into the common area at a slow shuffle. “Good morning!” Both boys said cheerfully. My bedroom was downstairs, right off the kitchen, so I didn’t have far to go. Grady was perched at the bar, drinking a smoothie and listening to whatever audiobook or podcast helped him get in the zone. Scott was in the living room, stretching and arguing with whoever was preaching on ESPN.

I stood in the kitchen, eating my Pop-Tarts and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, fully aware that I was the type to wake up at 6:55 for a 7 a.m. run. The boys, on the other hand, were the type to wake up at 6.

Fed up with the sports gospel, Scott clicked off the TV and stretched one last time. “Alright, y’all… ready?”

He and Grady turned to me, both wearing that look—the one that said they didn’t actually believe I could destroy them on this run, despite waking up later and fueling myself with nothing but synthetic blueberries.

We pushed through the door and jogged toward the water’s edge. We started to pick up our pace once you got to our regular path just about two blocks from our townhouse. I usually paced the guys for the first mile to get my

Legs and hips warm and last Seven or eight miles I kicked it in gear and they were in my dust by at least 20 seconds. We finally paused, letting the cool Boston air and the Saturday morning hustle settle around us.

You could see the walk of shamers, early risers, local markets setting up and tourists all alike that early in the morning. It was never boring to say the least.

During our brief pause we shared a quiet moment—no words, just an unspoken understanding. We had always communicated well, but over time, it had become something deeper. Now, we didn’t need to speak to know we were all feeling the same thing.

We steadied our heart rates and we were ready to head back. This time I paced them a bit longer but, of course, I had to show off. Around mile 10, I tapped into my second wind and again - dusted them.

On my own, I average a 5:30 to 6-minute mile. With the boys, we hover closer to seven. In a sprint, they’d leave me in the dust without breaking a sweat. But distance? Ha! Not a chance.

By the time they finally caught up, I had already made it inside and started my coffee.