Page 27 of Poet & Protector

I looked around. From where we stood, we were an equal distance from the two farthest corners of the garden.

“There and there,” I said, pointing to each.

“Agreed,” he said. “I call northeast corner.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing this time. He was so damn excited. “Okay. I’ll go southwest.”

His eyes were alight with mischief. “I bet you I’ll win.”

“We’re already racing,” I said. “You want a bet as well?”

“So you’ll do it?” he asked.

“I guess,” I said, wondering what exactly I was getting myself into.

His eyes danced over my face. “You’re smiling. Like, a real smile. I didn’t know you could do that, Nev.”

I tried to stop smiling. Failed. “Don’t get used to it. And I’m only smiling because you’re insane.”

“Whatever,” he said. “I bet you I’ll find my object first and it will be better than yours.”

“Mason.” I shook my head. “That’s going to be completely subjective. We’re both going to think we found the best object.”

“Then we’ll argue about it until one of us concedes,” he countered. “We’re good at arguing.”

“Fine, but I want to set some rules. It needs to be something good, you can’t pick the first thing you find and then refuse to admit you lose.”

“I would never,” Mason scoffed. “Now what will I get when I win?”

“How about if you win, I’ll type up our notes for class,” I offered.

“Deal.” He eyed me, suddenly suspicious. “If by some fluke you win, what do I have to do?”

“Same thing,” I said. “You have to type up the notes.”

“Fair,” Mason said, then hemmed and hawed. “Kind of boring.”

I should have been able to let his comment roll off me without a second thought, just like I shouldn’t have agreed to this stupid bet in the first place. But my hackles were up the moment he called me boring.

“Fine.” I folded my arms across my chest. “You don’t want boring? How’s this: if I win you have to kiss me.”

What. The. Fuck.

There was no way I just said that. I certainly hadn’t intended to propose something so ludicrous, but the words manifested without warning; a violent ambush of my thoughts that took my voice hostage. They were accompanied by a vivid and unwelcome vision of me pinning Mason against the garden wall as I took his mouth in a devouring kiss. The flutter I felt this time was much lower than the first. And it wasn’t so much a flutter.

Shit. I was definitely going to ignore whatever that was. I should not want to kiss Mason. At all. My subconscious clearly disagreed.

Mason’s eyes practically flew out of his skull. “What?”

He wasn’t alone in his shock. I still couldn’t believe I’d thrown that gauntlet.

What the hell was wrong with my mouth? I never had trouble staying silent even when someone pissed me off, but Mason had an uncanny knack for prodding me into doing things I normally wouldn’t.

I schooled my features into a mask of indifference and did my best to ignore the knots in my stomach as I waited for him to say something more.

He continued to stare at me like I’d sprouted antlers, which made sense because I’d clearly lost my mind, but he didn’t look horrified, only stunned.

When he finally spoke, it was in a whisper. “You want me to kiss you?”