But no, he didn’t. A couple of times since first meeting Gretchen, before they were intimate, he’d had relationships of very short duration, women he met, saw briefly, kept in touch with for a matter of weeks before determining there was no foundation to support a long-distance relationship. But the racing circuit was tight; all the same people ran into one another all the damn time in all the same places.

Since he started having sex with Gretchen, talking to her almost daily, there had been no one else. They had something of a standoff as he insisted they decide what kind of relationship they were going to have moving forward. Friends? Lovers? A couple? A long-distance couple? A serious and committed couple? A family of two?

Gretchen liked it the way it was. He should know how important he was to her—she put him first. They were in constant communication. They saw each other regularly. Was she ready to be tied down to one man permanently? Why? she asked. What’s the difference? She wasn’t putting him at risk and all she asked was that he not make another woman more important or put her health at risk. She described that as being adults about this.

Blake, who was clearly not on the same map, chose to be honest and told her that wouldn’t work for him. There was a vast area between platonic friends and business associates and a committed couple, and he wasn’t comfortable in that uncertain middle ground. He decided not to move to Boulder, something he’d been considering. He rented a place in Truckee for a while during the summer while he looked for real estate that would suit him better. But in his mind, he and Gretchen had been, for over a year, friends and colleagues. Not lovers.

At first, that had stung. He had enjoyed having a steady woman in his life, something and someone to look forward to; there hadn’t been many of those in his adult life. There had been too many when he was much younger, when he’d just been following his dick as young men will do, and once he figured out that wasn’t going to bring him the satisfaction he really craved, he had more time for his sport. But having a woman in his life, he liked that. The right woman at the right time. He had thought he probably loved her.

Then he realized he had uttered the words. She had been touched. “Oh, Blake, that’s so lovely. You are the most wonderful man.” But she had not said them back.

He was over the romantic illusion now. He didn’t love her and their parting wasn’t causing him any distress. He’d like to continue to work with her on his athletic performance, but there were other trainers if that wasn’t possible. Other trainers who would give a lot to get him for a client.

When they were at his house and had unloaded the luggage and bikes, she looked around his house and gym. “Wow. I tried to envision this from your descriptions but this is really beautiful. You did an amazing job on the house. It’s just too far away.”

“I didn’t build the house, Gretchen. I just picked out the appliances, paint color and fixtures. That was enough work.”

“How about something to drink?” she asked. “Any chance you have a cold beer?”

“Knowing you like your beer, I bought a six. Your brand. Sam Adams?”

“Will you have one with me?”

“Sure,” he said, sensing she was leading up to something. He opened two bottles and handed her one.

“To us,” she said, toasting.

“Which us?” he asked before drinking to the toast.

“I’d like to talk about that, if you’re open to a conversation.”

“Go ahead,” he urged her.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought, Blake, and I’ll agree to your terms. We can be exclusive.”

“Why do I get the feeling this is a major concession for you?” he asked with a smile.

“Not at all. I miss our relationship. If the price is remaining exclusive, you’re worth it. I meant it—I miss you. What I’d like? I’d like to have a beer, share a shower, roll around in the bed for an hour, then take a ride before the sun goes down. Like old times.”

He put his bottle on the counter. He knew he wore a pained expression. “I’m sorry, Gretchen. You gave me too much time to think. We’re not right for each other. It was pretty clear—we’re looking for different things.”

“So. Have you found what you’re looking for?”

“I’m not with anyone, but that’s really not the point. I was hoping we’d be a couple, but that was two years ago. I thought being a couple meant living in the same house, having common goals, working together and relaxing together. When that was off the chart I bought this house. My first house. It’s not in Boulder—it’s not anywhere near your house. I wasn’t intentionally putting distance between us, but when being close was no longer a priority, I found a place and house I like.”

“We made it work before,” she said. “Not living in the same town much less house.”

“Yeah, I was ready to make something a little more serious work. You weren’t. That’s okay, Gretchen. We have to be honest with each other. But now that we’ve made the break, this is what we have. And I really don’t want to be a casual fuck if it’s all the same to you.”

“I never saw you as a casual fuck,” she said, growling a little.

“At the end of the day it felt like that. Committed people share space. They share feelings and goals and time.”

“We have the feelings, goals and time covered,” she said. “We’ve always been rowing in the same direction, that’s how we ended up in bed together.”

“Is it?” he asked. “I liked you. I was attracted to you, wanted you. Wanted a future with you. When you said that wouldn’t work for you, I moved on.”

“Is it my age?” she asked.

He laughed. “You’re forty-four! You find that old? Too old for me?”

“I spent a couple of decades building this life, this business. I’m not going to settle into being some cute little wife. I’ll never be a mommy.”

He frowned and shook his head. He had never suggested such a thing. “I was thinking partner.”

“I built that business.”

“Life partner, Gretchen. Not business partner. But never mind all that—it’s in our past now. We were connected for a while but it didn’t work. We’ll always be good friends, I hope.”