Isaac was almost around the corner before he heard Beck chasing after him. Truthfully, he was surprised Beck even let him get out of the café. When he’d first stood up, he’d expected Beck to mirror him and grab him before he took a single step.
When Beck hadn’t, Isaac had hoped Beck would respect his decision and leave him alone.
But Beck had never been one to give up easily.
“Isaac, wait!”
Isaac did not turn around or acknowledge that he’d heard Beck, and was unsurprised to hear a colorful string of profanity behind him. The woman pushing a stroller in Isaac’s direction scowled.
He swallowed his laughter. Some things never changed.
Since Beck had always been the faster runner between them anyway, Isaac kept up his normal walking speed until Beck’s hand clasped his wrist.
“Wait, you freaking son of a b*tch.”
“Just curious, but how do you expect cursing me out to help your case?” Isaac asked.