“I’m trying not to die!”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Kai,” I gasp, “I swear to God, if I face-plant in front of this whole town, I’m going to haunt you.”
His laugh is all heat and arrogance. “You’ll be fine. I’ve got you.”
His hands squeeze my thighs like punctuation, like he wants to make sure I believe it, and my insides flip with a tinge of arousal.
Around us, other teams are running, stumbling, laughing. Someone wipes out spectacularly to our left, and the crowd roars. A kid near the rope line yells, “Go, cowboy!” like this is the Olympics. I catch a glimpse of Hazel in the distance with a tall, dark-haired man, phone held high, and I don’t know whether to be grateful or furious.
“She’d better not be filming,” I wheeze.
Kai doesn’t even look. “She’s filming.”
“I’m going to kill her.”
“She’ll post it with a caption,” he says, dead serious. “?‘Local girl discovers cardio and sin.’?”
I choke on a laugh and tighten my grip. “Stop talking!”
“Can’t,” he says. “I’m in my element.”
And then Tanner appears beside us.
He’s running hard, face red with effort, partner bouncing on his back, but his attention isn’t on the finish line. It’s on us.He drifts closer, deliberate, angling in like he’s trying to clip us without making it obvious.
My skin goes cold. “Kai, watch out.”
Kai’s head tilts, like he already felt it. “I see him.”
Too late.
Tanner’s shoulder slams into Kai’s side.
We lurch. My scream rips out before I can stop it, my arms locking around Kai’s neck as the world tilts and my stomach drops. Kai stumbles two steps, boots skidding in the dirt, and for one horrible second, I’m sure we’re going down.
But Kai plants his foot in the ground, catches his balance, and his hands clamp my thighs like a promise.
“Hold on,” he states, voice suddenly like steel.
“IAMHOLDING ON,” I shriek, half terrified, half furious.
Kai glances sideways at Tanner.
“Oh,” he says, almost cheerful. “So that’s what we’re doing.”
And then he surges forward again, stronger, faster, like Tanner just gave him permission to stop playing nice.
“Oh my God, I’m going to die!” I call out. “Kai, do not make this worse.”
“You mean don’t make it fun,” he calls back.
Tanner sticks close on our right, breathing hard, drifting in like he’s lining up another hit. I tense, clutching Kai’s shoulders.
Tanner crowds in, shoulder angling toward Kai’s side again, and Kai cuts toward the center of the track where an orange cone marks the lane, then whips around it at the last second with a sharp pivot that makes my body swing.
I squeal, gripping tighter.
