David let go of my shirt then and stepped a few paces back. There was a ghost of a smile on his face when he warned one final time, “Keep away from Mike and Jacob.”
“Got it,” I murmured, too overwhelmed and frustrated with the warmth in all my erogenous zones to care about being defiant.
The second Rissa handed the ball off to a red-haired woman who tossed it to me, I was supposed to take off. I had faith that my team would guard me well enough to keep others off my trail. All I really had to worry about was David.
When I caught the ball (by the grace of some divine being), I headed straight for the touchdown line. No gimmicks was what Rissa had told us in our huddle. Apparently, Weston liked flourish. Simplicity was what would trip him and his plan up.
I wasn’t delusional enough to think I could outrun David. That was why I’d done what he told me not to do and gone straight toward the middle. Hart had already warned me aboutMike and Jacob, and Rissa already had a plan to neutralize them.
Once I was clear of the fray, I glanced over my shoulder to see a still very upright, hot on my tail, David.
Plan B: The Yara effect. Rissa and Hart’s name, but I enjoyed the ring of it.
I stopped dead in my tracks, and David nearly tripped over his feet, trying not to run into me.
“Hey!” someone on the sidelines yelled. “What are you doing?”
“Run!” another voice said this time, I think it was Haven.
“You still have a little way to go.” David gestured behind me.
“I’m aware.” I tossed the ball from hand to hand. “But come on, you and I both know I can’t outrun you.”
“You’re selling yourself short.”
When I raised a brow, he chuckled.
“Fine, what is this?” David shook his head, confused.
“My team and I made a bet you wouldn’t pull my flag,” I said.
“And why wouldn’t I do that?” David took a tentative step closer, and I took one back, my heart racing just slightly because maybe we were wrong.
I offered a half-shoulder shrug. “The reasons vary.”
“Grab her flag, man!” someone from his team urged.
“Focus, David!”
“Get the ball!”
“Aren’t you two adorable?” That was Rissa’s mocking.
David held his hand up, telling everyone to keep their distance. This was his issue to handle. The heckling didn’t faze him. His gaze never wavered from mine. This undivided attention felt like gold. Fool’s gold, perhaps, but still pretty enough to admire.
“Give me your reason,” David challenged.
“You still think I have cooties,” I teased, taking another step back.
David followed me, not one who was easily distracted. “Hardly.”
“In the four years since we’ve been here,” I said. “You’ve touched me, what, twice? I’m practically radioactive.”
He scoffed. “That’s not why I don’t touch you.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“For the same reason you kissed me like that in Weston’s kitchen.”
