Page 22 of The Golden Scoop

“Emma,” he says, moving to the zipper.

I turn around to face away from him.

“Nothing,” I mutter.

“Thought so.”

His pants drop with a soft thud, followed by some shuffling.

“You can look now.”

I take a deep breath before facing him. He’s changed into shorts and has decided to discard his shirt entirely.

It’s not fair.

How this man is built like a warrior despite having never fought a battle in his life.

“You’re staring.”

I am. I’m trying not to, but I am.

“Just wondering what you need all those muscles for. Wouldn’t it be more practical to be quick on your feet? You know, for escaping all those one-night stands before morning?”

“I’m faster than you think.”

“Not faster than me.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I’m wearing work pants, a blouse, and heels. It’s hardly a fair fight, and yet something in me tells me I’d win either way.

I take my shoes off and drop my purse.

“Let’s go.”

We line up outside, crouched down as if we were about to compete for Olympic gold.

“If I win, I never have to see you again after this is over,” I say.

“Fine. But if I win… I get a kiss.”

He must not know how competitive I am because that gives me the extra boost I needed. I never back down from a bet.

“First to the fence wins. On three?” I ask.

He nods.

“One… Two… Three…”

I sprint faster than I have in years, and even with his strides being much longer than mine, he can’t seem to keep up.

I’m almost to the fence when he dives toward me. His hands reach my waist, bringing me down with him. We tumble on the grass, coming to a stop with him completely on top of me.

It wasn’t a hard fall, and I’m not hurt, but I still want to be mad. He knew I was going to win and he cheated.

Except when I open my eyes, I meet his blue ones already staring at me, dark with some emotion I can’t pin down. His hair is disheveled, and I have the urge to raise my hand and mess it up even more.

That’s when I realize my palm is sitting firmly on his chest.