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“Why that one?”

“It’s the middle.”

“That isn’t strategy.”

“It’s more strategy than standing here.”

I pulled the estate map from our basket. “The maze is asymmetrical. If the center path curves east, we’ll need to take the first left and remain right until—”

Ryan took the map, folded it, and placed it in the back of his shorts.

I stared at him. “Did you steal my map?”

“You were overthinking.”

“We’re inside a maze.”

“And now you’re thinking less.”

“You cannot solve every problem by removing my access to information.”

“It’s worked before.”

I reached around him for the map, but Ryan turned and blocked me with his hip.

“Give it back.”

“Find the center.”

“I was attempting to.”

“You were preparing a lecture.”

“I was explaining the layout.”

“You used the word asymmetrical before eleven in the morning.”

I grabbed the back of his shirt and attempted to reach around him. Ryan laughed, caught me around the waist, and moved me ahead of him until my back pressed against his chest.

“Walk.”

“You’re manhandling your captain.”

“I’m redirecting leadership.”

His arm remained across my stomach while he guided me down the narrow path. Heat gathered everywhere his body touched mine, intensified by the mezcal and memories of the previous night.

“You’re enjoying this,” I accused.

“I enjoy efficient systems.”

“Your system involves pressing yourself against my ass.”

“It’s efficient.”

“I can feel how efficient it is.”

Ryan’s step faltered.