28. Chapter 28 #2
“I want to do this right, Chef—do us right.” He tipped my helmeted head up with a curled finger under my chin. “I want good soil for us.”
My brow furrowed. “What?”
He laughed as popping shots neared on both sides of no man’s land. “I’ll explain it tomorrow. For now, how about the first one to reach their side wins? Fair and square.”
I stood about as much chance of beating him at a foot race as I did of turning into a poodle, but it beat getting shot again. “No tricks?”
He shook his head. “No tricks.”
“If you’re lying, I’m lacing the next dessert I make with a bunch of raisins.”
“Whoa, now.” He stepped to the side, finally allowing me an unobstructed path to our territory. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”
I shrugged, shaking out my quivering muscles. “Better not be lying, then.”
He laughed. “On three?”
I nodded, gripping their flag tighter and tensing my muscles in preparation.
“One. Two. Three !”
I rocketed toward my territory, excess skirt fabric bunched in my gun hand as I weaved between trees and hurtled over logs. Survival may be a good motivator, but it turned out wanting to impress your forbidden love was an even bigger one.
Shots popped off in the distance, but I barely noticed.
I zeroed in on the beginning of our territory with a tunnel vision.
I barreled past trees and moss and underbrush that were nothing more than blurs.
Sweat coated my arms under the sleeves of my dress.
My lungs gulped greedily for air. My legs burned, threatening to give out as blood coursed through each injured limb.
I finally slid past the latitude of Kris’ minivan, letting out a whoop. I probably still lost, but that was the fastest I’d ever run. I could almost— almost —understand the rush athletes felt when they PR-ed and why they put themselves through such torture in the first place.
Cheers accompanied my own as I spun to see where Max was.
He, seconds after me and now coated in pink paint, slid past the SUV line like it was home base.
Hattie and Annie stood nearby, likely the source of Max’s new colors.
Booker leaned against a tree and clapped, dipping his head in acknowledgement of our victory.
I stuck their flag into the ground, placed my gun next to it, and made my way back across no man’s land, head foggy and legs like Jello.
We’d probably only been playing for an hour or so, but it felt like an eternity.
And yet, against the odds, we’d won. Mostly because Hattie and Annie either hadn’t known about or didn’t plan to respect Max and I’s agreement to race, but still.
The girls met me halfway, Hattie wrapping me into a hug and bouncing in jubilation and Annie thumping me on the back.
“Go bride tribe!” Hattie yelled, holding a fist up.
My weak whoop was cut short as I got tackled in a hug from behind. I recognized Kris’ muscular embrace before she spoke. “I saw everything, girl! Way to go!”
“See? I knew you could do it,” Annie said, punching my arm with affection.
Yeah, I’m positive Max could’ve overpowered me and gotten their flag back without breaking a sweat, and he would’ve beaten me if he hadn’t been shot along the way. But I’d take the victory however it came.
Booker approached next, offering a handshake.
It was such a distinctly Colt-like thing to do after such an intense game that I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
High on the rush of winning and honestly a little light-headed from the events of the past hour, I wrapped him into a hug instead.
I was too excited for a handshake, even for Colt 2. 0.
He hesitated at first before returning the hug. “Congratulations. That was a well-fought match.”
I pulled away, gesturing at him. “Yeah, sorry about the wasps.”
He straightened, clearing his throat. “It was an effective strategy, I have to say.” As I turned to check on Max, he asked, “We’re still on for Tuesday, right?”
“You’re not holding a grudge because we won?”
“Of course not.” He shook his head like the very thought repulsed him. “You played the game well.”
“For an untrained civilian, right?” I teased.
“For anyone. I’ve hardly seen such effective evasion tactics while running.”
That could be because I didn’t even know what I was going to do next as I fled. I was just as surprised as everyone else. But, hey, I’ll take it.
“Oh, thanks. You played well, too.” I motioned with my thumb towards Max. Was he okay? He took a lot of hits. He hadn’t moved much since his slide into second place. “I’m going to go make the rounds, but I’ll see you Tuesday.”
He nodded, confirming our plans and waving as I left.
Max brushed off his dress as I neared, spearing our flag into the ground beside him. “Congratulations, Chef.”
I hugged him, sighing in contentment as my arms wrapped around him. He flinched before reciprocating, but so did I once my bruises and stings touched him.
“Thank you for letting me win,” I murmured, mask pressing against my face.
“Hold on,” he pulled away, holding me an arm’s length from his body so he could look down at me, “I didn’t let you win. I had every intention of beating you and enjoying my raisin-less dessert, thank you very much.”
I laughed, trying to hide my disappointment as his arms fell back to his sides. “For the record, I had no idea you’d have to run through an active battlefield when I agreed to race.”
“Yeah, me neither.” He rubbed at his chest and shoulders, where the most pink was concentrated.
Lex and Rowan picked their way through the trees towards us, significantly more battered with blue than the last time I saw them. He noticed the impending audience, too, with Colt, Isaiah, and McBride wandering over.
“How about five tomorrow night?” he asked. “I believe I owe you one mediocre dessert.”
“You’re on.” I dipped my head to the side, considering him as the rest of the team members joined us. “Although, because you didn’t shoot me or steal the flag when you had the chance, I offer my assistance.”
“Doesn’t that negate the purpose of you winning?”
“I’m pretty sure the purpose of me winning was to have bragging rights. Plus,” I teased, “I want to have a palatable dessert.”
“Ouch.” He laughed. “Way to kick a man when he’s down, Chef.”
“Sorry.”
I wasn’t sorry.
“Tomorrow, then.” He glanced toward his teammates before looking me up and down until my heart sang.
“It’s a date.” I froze. Definitely the wrong choice of words, considering his dating hiatus.
But before I could explain that it was just a phrase and I wasn’t trying to intrude on his boundaries again, he nodded, his voice sure and with a hint of a smile. “Yes. It is.”