But an ounce.
But I was not about to beg for it. I climbed out of the car. “Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
That was it?
I slammed the door shut behind me, climbing the stairs to my apartment with angry stomps of my sandals.
My new roommate was in her room and clearly not alone. The sound of desperate moans of pleasure, interspersed with male grunts, filled the air.
Fabulous. Everyone was getting some but me.
“I guess I wasn’t clear on the dress code,” Riley said, eyeing my hot pink sports bra and black volleyball shorts as I climbed into his car Saturday morning.
“What? You said it’s an obstacle course. This is my workout outfit.”
“I also said it should be something you don’t mind getting dirty. This looks like you’re going to film an erotic workout video.”
“What the hell is an erotic workout video?” I lifted his coffee mug out of the holder and sniffed. “Is this from today or is it old?”
“It’s from today.”
I took a sip.
“Yes, you can have a sip.”
That would be my tongue sticking out at him.
“I’m serious. You should go change.”
“Is this some jealousy thing again?”
He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his temples like I gave him a headache. “Just get a T-shirt. Please.”
“Can’t I just wear yours? I don’t feel like climbing all those stairs again.”
Riley gave me a long look. “You don’t want to take the stairs. But you’re about to enter a Warrior Dash.”
“I’m saving my energy. We can T-shirt share. Like a time-share, only less expensive.”
“You make me want to drink and it’s only 8 a.m.”
“Then my work is done here.” I stared him down.
Finally, he sighed and put the car into reverse. Ha. I won.
Except it was an empty victory when I saw what the obstacle course actually looked like. “Riley! You did not tell me I would be crawling through mud!”
“I said wear clothes to get dirty.”
“Dirty and covered in mud from head to toe are two different things.” I was watching in horror as person after person dragged themselves on their bellies through a sloppy pit to touch dangling flags. Then there was the wall scaling. And the jumping over a line of fire. What the hell?
“What about this is supposed to be fun?”
“It’s sweaty, messy fun.”
“That’s sex.” Of which we were having none.
He frowned at me. “You don’t have to do it.”
“Well, of course I’m going to do it. I’m just a little surprised. Besides, I like to complain.”
“Really? I never noticed.” He laced his fingers through mine. “I bet you make this obstacle course your bitch.”
Holding hands in public was a new thing for me, and I had a weird appreciation for why people did it. It made me feel . . . wanted. Taken care of. I can’t say I’d felt that way in a long time. On the other hand, it felt a little like gloating—like look at me with my hot boyfriend. But I was okay with that.
Riley had taken off his shirt and yanked it on over my head. I don’t think it was a total coincidence that he did it after a guy in his thirties was checking me out. With my free hand, I traced the tattoo on his chest, trying to make sense of the dark figure and all the shading. “What is this, anyway?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Excuse me? Why not?” I leaned forward to study his chest a little closer. “Wait a minute. Is that a demon? With wings?”
“It may or may not be a demon or it may or may not be the devil.”
“Holy crap!” Horror rushed over me. I had been okay with thinking it was a weird werewolf or a monster from a video game or a comic. But the devil? The Big S? The ultimate demon of all demons? “How am I supposed to cuddle on your chest knowing my head is resting on Lucifer?”
“It wasn’t something I particularly planned out,” he admitted. “But if it’s any consolation it’s meant to symbolize conquering your demons.”
Now that I knew what it was, there was no denying it. It was hard to see why I hadn’t been able to pick that evil face out of the black swirls before. I stared at it so long, the lines started to blur. The devil had particularly menacing teeth. “I’m speechless.”
“Now I know my secret weapon to get you to shut up.”
I twisted his nipple.
“Ow, Jess.” He rubbed his chest. “You fight dirty.”
“Remember that.” I looked back at the course. “Okay, so how does this work?”
“You’re in the eighteen-to-twenty-four age bracket. They run heats of competitors in each bracket so everyone isn’t out there at once.”
“I’d rather go up against the sixty year olds. But okay, fine.”
He explained the course, and in another five minutes, they were calling us for line up. I had been hoping I would get to see Riley do it first, but no such luck.
“You got this,” he told me, sounding way more confident than I felt.
But I was nothing if not stubborn. I figured I could power my way through the course. Which is what I did. Leaping over the fire was no big deal. The wall wasn’t that tough either, and I gained ground on some of the other competitors by showing no hesitation in just dropping the five feet from the top down the other side, landing with an
The control.
I pushed it hard, the buzzing in my ears, the crowd yelling, and the rush of my burning lungs. Okay, I’m not going to lie. When I dropped in the mud pit, the first slap of hot sludge sliding over made me want to gag, and an army crawl through slop is harder than it looks. But using my elbows and my thighs, I hauled myself through and scrambled to my feet, my hair falling out of my ponytail and slapping me in the cheek with a wet layer of mud. For a second I couldn’t see, but as I ran in the general direction of the finish line, I swiped at my eyes with the one spot on my forearm that was clean. I saw that Riley was at the finish line yelling for me, a grin splitting his face.
In my wave of competitors, I finished second behind the girl who had jumped with me. Stumbling to a stop, I sucked in a few deep breaths and slapped Riley’s hands, which he had raised for a double high five. A high ten.
“Babe, that was awesome!” he said. “You killed it!”
“Told you,” I wheezed. Then I leaned forward and wiped my muddy hands on his chest.
Instead of being pissed, he laughed. He grabbed both my dirty cheeks and gave me a kiss.
“When is your turn?” I asked, still breathing hard. “I’m dying of thirst and I want to steal your beer.”
“I think I have a few minutes.”
“Okay.” I peeled off his T-shirt and slapped the muddy mess against his chest. “Here’s your shirt back.”
He cocked his head. “Oh, you are just asking for it.”
“Yes, I am.” I grinned before throwing my arms around his neck, rubbing my body against his, the shirt wedged between us. “Kiss me.”
