Chapter Ten #2
‘Careful, Lawrence. Looks like you’re out of steam.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ I pretended to be pissed off, cos I knew it would make her happier. ‘We’re not at the end yet, Sunshine.’
She picked up the pace but I did too and, by some miracle, I kept close behind her, close enough that I could stretch my hand out and grab her ponytail, or her waist, pulling her back to me, hold her close, feel her heart race against my chest—
No.
She wasn’t even close to being my friend again, let alone to deal with all the other feelings that had awoken on the night we spent together. The feelings that had me running away from her.
Lydia was still ahead as we reached the peak of the hill, but I was close enough to hear her breathless, manic laugh as she pushed forward, somehow pulling out all the stops at the last minute.
She slapped her palm against the stone marker, and then spun around to face me, wild-eyed and grinning.
Her hair had escaped the ponytail and her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her whole body buzzing with triumph.
I hunched over, hands on my knees, gasping for air, but I couldn’t stop looking at her – the flush to her cheeks and the look of victory on her face.
‘I won.’ She threw her arms above her head. ‘I won. First shower is mine. Suck it, Hunter.’
I huffed out a laugh. ‘Well done.’
‘You were slow.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Did you let me win?’
‘I didn’t let you win, Lydia,’ I scoffed, gesturing to myself, sweating twice as much, barely standing upright, while she fixed her ponytail. ‘Would I look like this if I’d let you win?’
‘I’ve seen you in better shape.’
I snorted. ‘Charming.’
‘Did you mean what you said earlier?’ She tilted her head. ‘About lifting less than Amy? Or did you say that to make her feel better?’
‘Lydia. You have that girl deadlifting a hundred and twenty kilos. I work in a bar five days a week and shake cocktails for a living. What do you think?’
‘You make a good point. But they are good cocktails,’ she said, kicking a stone.
‘Thank you.’ I managed to pull myself upright, staggering closer to her. ‘And you’re a good coach.’
My smile was soft and tired, and she allowed me close enough to smell the perfume and sweat radiating off her.
‘I—’ She glanced away. ‘I could put you together a training plan if you wanted. I have them already, so it wouldn’t be much for me to send one over.’
Warmth spread through me. I knew she was holding back, but her instinct was still there – to help me.
‘Thanks, Lyds. I’ll make you a deal. What do you weigh?’ I asked, assessing. ‘What – seventy kilos?’
‘Seventy-six.’ She corrected me, extending her biceps with a grin. ‘Give me some credit. I’m stronger than that.’
I grinned, stepping forward and wrapping my hand around her arm. Her skin was soft, but the muscle underneath was strong.
I hummed. ‘I stand corrected.’
My hand stilled there and I watched Lydia’s throat bob.
‘Why don’t we make a deal?’ I said, my voice low. ‘If you send me a plan, I’ll make sure I can always deadlift seventy-six.’ My eyes shifted up and down. ‘And squat it… bench-press it.’ I glanced up to find her cheeks flushed pink. ‘Just something to keep in mind.’
Lydia’s eyes flicked up to mine, then – for just a second – dropped to my mouth.
‘Deal,’ she said, her voice husky.
I ran my hand down her arm, marvelling at the feeling of her hands, running my fingers along hers.
I hadn’t touched her in so long. It felt like a cooling bath after a day under the sun.
I’d always loved the power of her hands and what they could do – they were a perfect combination of lithe and strong.
I brought her hand up to my mouth and kissed it. Lydia inhaled, sharp and quiet.
I knew she was remembering the last time I’d kissed her palms, that night in her bed, when everything had blurred and contorted into something new.
Something scary. But something I was ready to face now.
Lydia should have pulled back by now, like she had before.
Throw harsh words at me or make a cutting joke.
I would have welcomed that over the icy sunshine she had given me for the last year.
But she didn’t. I stared at her, trying to tell her I was hers for the taking.
I raised an eyebrow.
Your move next.
Her blue eyes narrowed in challenge and my lips twisted up. I should have realised a challenge would get her to play. She stepped forward into me, close, close, and closer.
Yes.
All I could feel was the heat of her body, the touch of her hands.
She crowded my senses and it was all I wanted.
Her nose grazed my jaw, her breath warm, as she ran her fingers through mine, clasping them at my side.
My pulse hammered against my ribs. It was as if we were animals circling each other in the wilderness.
I inhaled her perfume, the sweat on her skin, the smell of Lydia, and something in my chest tightened, twisted, and ached.
‘You look beautiful when you win.’ My voice was soft, but the words landed heavily. ‘I’ve always loved when we compete. But I love it when you beat me even more. You looked like an avenging goddess.’
Lydia stuttered – the sound mangled, choked, as if her brain had short-circuited mid-word.
‘You shouldn’t say stuff like that, Ren.’
‘I know.’ I watched her throat bob as she swallowed, her hands clenched at her sides. I gave a slow smile. ‘Doesn’t stop me thinking it, though.’
I didn’t finish my sentence because my hands slipped out of hers to hold her waist, hold her back from torturing me any longer. I pulled her in to me, planning on the ways I could get her up against a tree and press her further against me. Lock her there, keep her.
A rustle of leaves.
A girlish laugh.
A stomp of boots.
Lydia pulled away as if a bucket of water had been thrown over us just as Gen, Jade, and the others came into view. Peggy walked over to greet them, her bum wiggling.
Lydia turned to them, jumping away from me, as if we’d been caught doing something truly scandalous. If I’d had it my way, we would have been.
Mandy came into view, a conspiratorial smile on her face, ‘So who won?’
Lydia slipped on a smile, pretending the last 30 seconds hadn’t just happened.
But I saw it.
The way her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes.
‘She did, of course,’ I said, keeping it light. ‘Lydia always wins in the end.’
Her eyes flicked to mine, narrowed slightly.
‘I don’t,’ she said quietly.