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“Okay, so I guess we’re not going to talk about that,” she said in an attempt at lightness.
He didn’t respond, and merely shoved her up onto the next platform before pulling himself up beside her.
“Last stretch, Dalton. You ready to lose?”
“Oh, you’re on, Mr. Wyatt.”
And with that, they both broke into a run, pushing their way through a net room filled with foam tubes hanging from the ceiling. He had the advantage of strength, but her smaller size allowed her to more easily navigate the small spaces. They pushed and pulled at each other in an attempt to get ahead as the laughing crowds cheered them on.
“All right, Sophie!” she heard Jeff call. “That’s my girl!”
Gray paused momentarily, giving Sophie just the last bit of advantage she needed to dive toward the exit tube ahead of him.
She felt his hand grasp around her ankle and let out a girlish squeal as she tried to kick free. He held firm, and despite her squirming, he managed to get even with her as they each tried to push the other aside long enough to squeeze through the one last tube.
“You should let me win,” she gasped. “People will like you more.”
“When have I ever cared if people like me?” he muttered back, his own breath sounding a bit short.
She bit his forearm.
“What the hell!”
“Whoops. Instinct took over,” she said.
“Exactly what instinct is that, bobcat?”
He nudged her to the side, and she lost her advantage as the tubes fell back into place, blocking the exit.
“Argh, just let me through!” she exclaimed laughingly.
“Earn it.”
She went to nip him again, but he grabbed her disheveled ponytail and held her teeth away from his body.
“Christ, Sophie,” he said with a laugh. “I think you might be my…”
He broke off, and then shook his head as if to clear his brain.
“I might be your what,” she goaded. “Nemesis? Thorn in your side? Your demon?”
His lips quirked slightly and he laid his mouth against her ear in the pretense of pushing past her. “I think you might be mine,” he whispered.
And just like that, her world faded away. She forgot about the fact that she looked like she’d lived through a hurricane, forgot that there were a hundred people waiting for her to squeeze through an inflatable tube, and forgot that this man had once been everything she’d hated in the world.
Her shock paralyzed her, and his gray eyes glowed down at her before he gave her suddenly limp body a gentle shove, and with some kind of ridiculous war cry, he went diving through the tunnel ahead of her.
The crowd erupted in applause, and pulling herself together, she followed him through, careful not to let her now-damp sweater set ride up. She emerged to a crowd of people patting Gray on the back, and Jeff was there to pull her to her feet.
“Good show, Sophie,” Jeff said with a warm smile. “I thought you guys had died in there.”
“It was touch and go, believe me,” she said, as she was surrounded by her rowdy coworkers.
Stan Michaelson had fashioned a makeshift gold medal and was trying to place it around Gray’s neck, and her boss grinned almost boyishly as everyone clapped him on the back and demanded to hear about his technique.
Sophie smiled and laughed, and joined in with the chatter, but inside she was shaking at what had just happened. She willed Gray to look at her, just once so she could confirm that she hadn’t misheard him. That the kiss hadn’t been a dream.
But he was uncharacteristically hamming up his victory for his audience, and seemed to have forgotten that she existed.
