Chapter 5 Avery #2
His hands relaxed enough for Avery to turn in his grasp, then he curled one corded forearm around her midriff and reached down to grip the crate being passed up to him on the end of a pole. Her heart clattered crazily as his stomach muscles trembled against her back.
Taking it from him, Avery edged the crate into place and they both shook with the effort of bracing themselves when the tower rocked beneath their feet.
“What do you want to know?” she asked, her voice strangled, as she stepped up and turned to face him again.
“Um.” Tanner wobbled, paled, and gathered himself. “Who did you go to prom with?”
“Tyson Dax.”
His double take nearly overbalanced them.
Avery grabbed for his harness and missed, her fists closing around handfuls of damp cotton while Tanner’s arms shot out to steady her.
Her nose smashed against his neck, a narrow silver snake-link chain inhaled between her parted lips, warm and salty.
Her stomach dipped and swooped as she spat it out.
The tower wobbled, then settled. Down below, a chorus of “Oooooo’s” escaped from the watching group.
Unpeeling her fingers, Avery put a sliver of air between them.
“You’re fucking kidding me!”
She wiggled free of his grip and stepped up onto the new level. Tanner groaned as she turned but followed as soon as she’d made space for his feet.
“Yeah, I am.” Avery let the grin escape.
“Chrissake, Stretch,” he wheezed. “Are you trying to kill us?”
Nope, but she had successfully manipulated the question so that was a win. There was a limit to how honest she was willing to be.
They managed another two crates.
“Tyson fucking Dax.” Tanner grated the name into her ear, lips barely moving as sweat beaded on his ashen temples. “Like that psychopathic weasel would know a corsage from a Corvette.”
He bent to reach for the next crate in slow motion, knees opening either side of Avery’s legs, his quads bulging and quivering as he lowered.
His hand ran the length of her spine. Searching for security, Tanner’s fingers found the waistband of her shorts and fisted around the denim, his knuckles brushing bare skin. Far too intimate.
Avery pushed away without thinking, arms wheeling as she stepped back into empty space.
Tanner, mid-crouch, had no chance to rise as the tower tumbled away beneath his feet.
The stack of crates landed with a deafening clatter into the empty space at the center of the group below.
Falling for what must have been milliseconds, but felt like eons, they were both caught by their ropes, harnesses pulling tight as they hovered in mid-air before being lowered slowly to the ground.
Thank God!
Unfastening her helmet, Avery waited to be unclipped from the webbing, her heart battering against her rib cage.
Damp strands of hair clung to her neck and she was grateful for the soft breeze which swayed the branches of the trees around them.
She needed to regain her composure. Needed some distance.
Stepping out of the circle, she dodged the fallen crates and let another couple take their place.
“I think that was my fault.” Tanner had followed her, wiping his face on the sleeve of his tee, the tense line of his jaw more relaxed now that his feet were planted back in the dirt. “Sorry if I grabbed you anywhere I shouldn’t have.”
“Crate-stacking legends in the making right here!” Bel appeared before she could answer, forcing Avery to take an unwilling step back into a mountain of muscle. “Future generations will marvel at our victory.”
“Chill your beans—we haven’t won yet, babe,” Drew said with an easygoing drawl.
“There are more teams to go.” Desperately grateful for the interruption, Avery struggled to sound casual as she made to move away from Tanner. She couldn’t think when he was this close. “Don’t be so cocky.”
Bel just blew on her nails. “I think I’m gonna need a bigger trophy shelf.”
Tanner’s chuckle reverberated in Avery’s sternum. She took a few hurried steps away from him.
“I’m going to . . .” She gestured vaguely toward the clubhouse in a way that could have meant she needed the washroom, a drink, or any number of other things. Weaving between bodies, her sneakers slapped against the grass as she jogged between the trees.
Out of sight of the others, Avery veered away from the main building and let herself into their cabin.
Her knees still felt as if they were fighting the sway of the crates, her thoughts just as rattled and unsteady.
All she needed was a shower, something to wash away the stickiness and the subtle fragrance of Tanner’s cologne that was far too potent.
At school, the boy with the easy smile and secondhand hockey gear had spread mishap and mayhem in his wake.
He’d gotten into fights, struggled in class, and was a regular fixture on one of the chairs outside Principal Harris’s office—sometimes with Sam Archer, sometimes alone.
Tanner Stone wasn’t someone Avery would have been allowed to hang out with.
She’d found it easier to let her dad choose the people she mixed with.
There were expectations, he said, of the mayor’s daughter and the company she kept.
Sometimes those expectations felt like a collar around her neck.
Back then, Avery’s home life might have been a carefully controlled hothouse of intensity and pressure, but she’d tried not to let it show.
She knew it was a small price to pay for reaping the benefits of a privileged lifestyle, and her parents reminded her frequently that she should be grateful.
Mayhem was an extracurricular activity she didn’t have time for.
But life has a way of laughing at high-minded plans. And exchanging her good fortune for Tanner’s chaos that one night in the rainswept parking lot a few months before graduation must’ve given the universe the biggest laugh of all.
Leaning against the wall of the steamy bathroom, her glowing reflection stared back at her from the mirror. Even in the smeared glass, Avery could track the flutter of her heartbeat through her t-shirt. She drew in a shaky breath, and despite the shower Tanner’s scent still teased her nose.
She’d dealt with all the disruption she could take. Any further chaos held no attraction at all. She needed to get a grip.
It was going to be a long weekend.