Page 49 of About That Pact

Charlotte wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

He just wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.

Looked like he was going on another run.

IF THERE WAS one personality trait Charlotte wished she could tone down, it would be her competitive nature. Yes, she loved to push herself to do her best. Yes, she loved the pressure of staying on top. She was sure everyone had a bit of that in them. But having less than twenty-four hours to prepare for a race was making her O.C.D. go into overdrive. She should have just told Rafe no, but she was determined to kick his ass in the race, even if she didn’t run as much as him.

She had to win.

Especially after she talked trash on how she would out-run him.

Last night, after dodging way too many questions about Rafe from her mom, which was more like snooping, she went home to prepare. She was guzzling water because she needed to hydrate her body. So what if it was a little over three miles, she had to prepare the best she could. She even made pasta for dinner. Carbs were supposed to help, according to most of the websites she reviewed on how to win a 5k.

Now, it was morning time before the race. She had stretched for thirty minutes following a video she’d found on YouTube. It was all about how to prepare for a race day of. She was taking this as serious as she could. Even if her perfectionist nature hadn’t been coming out, she was sure there was a bet floating around this race somewhere.

Rafe hadn’t put a wager on it, but it was still early. Who knew what he had up his sleeve?

Once she got to Mason Street, she was glad she’d left early because people were everywhere. There were runners getting ready for the race, vendors with giveaways, and family and friends to watch. A Katy Perry song filtered through the crowd, getting the runners hyped for the race. Just like her girl power mix, the atmosphere was addictive. Excitement buzzed through her. Not that she needed another hobby, but racing may have to be added to the list.

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe asked as he met her at the registration booth.

She jumped up to give him a hug. His idea to run a race together had been such a good one. He grabbed her instantly and squeezed her back. What was supposed to be quick contact turned into a stalemate of them holding each other.

Until Rafe bit her neck.

“Ow!” she shouted. “I was about to thank you for your idea to sign us up for this and you bite me. You better not have left a mark.”

“Please, it was a nip. I’ve left marks on you before.”

What was it with him broadcasting their sex life? It wasn’t like anyone had heard, but he had no shame in his game.

“And I bought a fifty-dollar concealer to cover up the one you left on my shoulder. It didn’t even help. I had to wear sweaters to work. In the summer. Not cool.”

“That one was an accident. I bit you in the heat of the moment.” There was a touch of disdain in his voice.

She did love when it happened, but bite marks had to stop. It was too intimate to leave a mark on each other. “How about we don’t do that anymore.”

“Fine,” he gruffed out.

“You’re being grumpy? Don’t you love the communal atmosphere of a race? As soon as I got out of my car, anticipation took over. I love the adrenaline rush. This is so much fun!”

He gently tapped her back. “I am grumpy because all I had for breakfast was toast and a banana. I’m hungry.”

She smiled proudly at him for trying to prepare. “Looks like someone researched how to get ready for a race.”

His eyes glinted with humor. “What I tell you may make you the grumpy one, but this isn’t the first race I’ve run since high school. I normally run four or five 5Ks a year.”

Crap.

All the noodles she’d consumed last night hadn’t prepared her for that news.

“What?” he kept talking, oblivious to her desire to win or how many noodles she ate. “I like to find races that benefit charities or causes I support.”

“Of course you do.”

“I told you you’d be the grumpy one.”