At first it was just amusing. A handsome stranger had twice in a row looked right through her charms, offered a calm greeting, and then jogged away.
It sparked Cameron's rare competitive streak—and her curiosity.
She looked him up on purpose. There wasn't much: rescuing someone at a convenience store made the local news, a Delmont commercial, the cover of Marie Claire—an actor just starting out.
Next came her "carefully designed" twisted ankle, their first intimate contact.
After that, the idle chatter every dawn while they ran side by side.
Landon carried a singular aura: quiet without being dull, gentle yet resilient, steadier than his years.
Listening to him speak, watching him smile, made people relax without noticing, a comfort so complete it was almost disarming.
With him she didn't have to play "America's Sweetheart," didn't need to stay dazzling every second; she could simply be Cameron—a woman who liked to run and occasionally pout like anyone else.
Until yesterday morning, when she saw him "spar" with John and Maria.
Those fluid movements, that uniquely rhythmic, powerful beauty, struck Cameron in an instant.
She'd seen Yuen Woo-ping's ornate choreography, but Landon was faster, stronger—sexier.
Attraction mingled with awe; she lost control, leapt onto him, and gave him that deep kiss.
And that kiss… Cameron brushed her lips as though the heat and tremor still lingered.
Kissing Landon felt unlike any memory she owned.
Intoxicating—and addictive.
Before she knew it, Jared's image in her mind had faded, until right now, speaking the breakup, her heart didn't ripple once.
For the past week she'd hardly thought of him.
What filled her mind was the morning run, Landon's smile, the calm, focused look in his eyes while he fought.
She was in, utterly, willingly—even expectantly.
If Landon knew, he'd probably cry injustice.
All he'd wanted was a quiet jog, a bit of distance—how had he become the spark of a celebrity romance and, inexplicably, left a top Hollywood star "unable to extricate herself"?
Still, perhaps not entirely undeserved.
After all, he hadn't pushed her away during yesterday's deep kiss and embrace.
Of course, he knew none of this.
While Cameron placed her breakup call in the night, Landon was in a hotel suite enjoying the wrap celebration Elisha had prepared for him—double enjoyment.
Then he returned to his own villa and slept.
A few hours later he woke in warmth, not yet fully conscious.
It felt like lying in sun-drenched, luxuriant blooms.
In his daze he even imagined a halo of holy light around him.
At the same time his lips registered another sensation—moist, soft, carrying a familiar scent, tangling deeply with his.
Landon slowly lifted his heavy eyelids.
His vision cleared: Tracy's flawless face was right there, noses almost touching.
Eyes closed, long lashes fanning shadows, she kissed him intently, possessively, with a hint of punitive claim.
Luxuriant blooms?
Well, obvious.
The familiar presence gave the answer away.
The bedside lamp was the room's only light, carving a small warm pool in the pre-dawn gloom, throwing their tangled silhouette onto the wall, swaying and magnified.
Clearly, dawn hadn't come.
So yesterday's late return was being "settled" and penalized in this fashion.
A wry thought crossed Landon's mind: he probably deserved this "retribution."
He didn't resist—couldn't.
Tracy's kiss turned fiercer, as if to erase and swallow every trace another woman might have left on him last night.
When the sudden "morning trial" finally ebbed, intensity mellowed into soft gasps, taut limbs relaxing over each other.
Only synchronized breathing remained, plus the distant, never-quite-silent hum of Los Angeles beyond the window.
Two hours later, at five o'clock, calm returned.
Sleep crept back; Landon closed his eyes and drifted off.
Remarkably, at six he woke on time again, even after the midnight exertions.
And he felt only faintly tired—nothing amiss.
His body's recovery kept redefining his self-perception.
After washing up he pushed open the villa gate.
Cool dawn wind rushed in, sweeping away the last drowsiness.
Warm-up done, Landon set off, anticipation fluttering as he began his morning run.
Sure enough, just past the first bend the expected figure appeared.
Cameron Diaz, flanked as always by her bodyguards John and Maria, waited ahead.
Today Cameron looked different.
When she saw him her smile bloomed brighter than ever.
Instead of waiting for him to jog close, she stepped forward to meet him.
To his mild surprise she opened her arms and hugged him solidly.
Her warm frame, still carrying the faint heat of pre-run exertion, pressed close; then she rose on her toes, kissed his lips, let go, and grinned mischievously.
"Morning, Landon." Her voice rang clear and cheerful.
"…Morning, Cameron." He collected himself and smiled. They fell into an easy side-by-side jog, Landon adjusting stride to match hers.
Landon shared that he'd officially wrapped on 24 hours and would start A Beautiful Mind in two weeks.
Cameron listened quietly, nodding and giving soft hums of approval.
After a short stretch of silence she suddenly said,
"Landon, I broke up."
He kept pace but glanced sideways, certain he'd misheard.
She turned, met his gaze; her blue eyes were crystal in the morning light. "Jared and I are done—yesterday."
Landon's stride jerked to a halt.
He stopped on the path, staring at her, stunned.
Cameron stopped too; they faced each other on the quiet neighborhood trail.
Ahead, John and Maria sensed the shift and slowed, drifting farther away to give them privacy.
"But I—" Landon began instinctively.
Before he could shape a sentence she stepped in, cupped his face, and—giving him no time—kissed him.
In the warm press of their lips Landon felt the certainty Cameron was passing to him.