Page 32 of Coincidentally Kismet

“Fine, but I was serious when I said you owe me, Rambo. The only reason I’m doing this is because you seemed desperate, and I’m just nice enough to not let you flunk out of this...well, whatever the hell this is,” she says with the most dramatic eye roll. It should worry me, but instead I am reassured that she still won’t back down from a competition.

We make our way over to the starting line and catch up with the rest of the group. Lo tells Cam how hot she looks.Yep, I agree, Lo. Thanks for noticing and reminding me.Butler gives her a hug, apparently also noticing this blonde smokeshow next to me, and mouths,You owe me, over her shoulder. He doesn’t want me to forget how he backed away from flirting with her that first night at the bar, because of bro code. I grab her hand just as the gun sounds, and we’re off. Here’s to hoping we actually make it through this. And that she doesn’t kill me when it’s over.

CHAPTER 15

CAM

“UNDER PRESSURE” - QUEEN & DAVID BOWIE

Remind me the next time a friend asks for a favor to absolutely and without hesitation sayno! We aren’t even ten minutes into this race, and already my lungs are burning. I’m having to resist the urge to toss my cookies, and we haven’t even attempted a true obstacle yet.

I estimate we’d run maybe half a mile when we came up to the first stop, which required us to dress in the attire of our troops, putting on helmets and heavy bulletproof vests. I also have to carry a plastic gun resembling one of those toy weapons that shoots Styrofoam darts, except this one doesn’t shoot anything and is just another thing for me to keep track of.

Of course, Lo looks like she’s having the time of her life. She loves working out and adventures. She’s probably ecstatic to be participating in something like this. Meanwhile, I’m trying to cycle through all the things my middle school track coach taught me back when I was attempting to transition from being a sprinter into someone who ran longer races, like the eight hundred meters and the mile.

Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. An oyster has a piece of sand inside its shell that hurts, and it’s similar to the pain in your side. When you run, that sand turns into a pearl. If you just keep going, your body will be a beautiful pearl, Cameron.Unfortunately, it didn’t work then, and it isn’t working now.

“You doing, okay?” Will huffs out at me.

“Yep, great. This is a breeze,” I wheeze at him. Will flashes that million-watt smile at me, and for a second, I believe I can actually do this. We stumble up on our first true obstacle, a set of door-like apparatus that have the top parts cut out, which require you to boost yourself up and through the hole. I manage it pretty easily, but Will rushes through like it didn’t even faze him.Jerk.

I’m not sure if I’m relieved, but the next obstacle is only about twenty feet ahead, and there seems to be a bit of a backup. I’m thankful for the wait so I can catch my breath, but Will spots an opening just wide enough for one person. I look at him ruefully, since I don’t think I’m tall enough to even hoist myself up over this barricade wall. Even if I had the arm strength, the height disadvantage has me thinking I might be qualified to skip this one.

Will smirks at me, almost like he can hear my thoughts and knows I’m looking for a way around this one. “The only way through isover, Wright,” he says, chuckling at me.

“And how exactly am I supposed to get over it?” I ask.

“Oh, that’s easy. I’m gonna give you a boost.” He actually fucking winks. My swampy backside is going to be right in his face.I hate him, it’s decided.

We quickly navigate over to the spot, and he asks if I’m ready. I level him with a look that screams that I’ll never be ready, but he doesn’t hesitate. In a flash, he’s hoisted me up high enoughthat all I need to do is get a leg on the top of the wall and then I can straddle it and lower myself down the other side.

Did I mention his face is literally parallel with my right butt cheek? Maybe I should flex and really give him a show. Ugh, I need to get it together and just get over this wall before he drops me.

I carefully swing my leg over so I’m sitting on top of the wall. Then I make a big mistake: I look down and realize I’m perched nearly six feet in the air. I’m not afraid of heights typically, but something about the possibility of falling from this position has me paralyzed with fear. I glance down at Will, and he motions for me to keep going so that he can make his way over.

I shake my head furiously, letting him know I’m completely stuck. He sighs and tells me to hold on a minute, and the next thing I know, he’s climbing up and over the wall a few feet down from me. Once Will has cleared the obstacle, I motion for him to go on without me: I’ve decided that this is my home now, and I will live the rest of my days like a bird perched upon this wall, overlooking the park.

Will runs over to where I’m content in my new resting place and asks, “Do you trust me?” Trust him? The answer to that is a resounding hell no. Now is not the time, but the question sends me unwillingly into deep thoughts about how my answer was always a resounding yes prior to our split.

“Cam, I need you to trust me. I’m going to reach my hands up, and I want you to grab them and then jump from the wall,” he shouts.

“I’m good, I’ll probably just stay here...You can’t catch me, anyway, I’m too heavy,” I shout back.

“Cameron, I promise I will catch you. You will not fall, just trust me. We need to keep moving if you want to win,” he pleads with me.

Of course, I want to win, and he knows it. This is the disadvantage of doing this sort of thing with someone who knows me better than anyone—he knows exactly how to kick me into full gear. Against my better judgment, I nod.

I huff out a breath and ask if he’s sure he’s ready. He gives me a nod and reaches up to me. I can see the muscles in his forearms and shoulders bulging. It’s actually unfair how distracting they are, but him being forced to catch me gives me an opportunity to gasp at them in a completely friendly, non-sexual way. Or at least that’s what I’m calling it.

I grab his hands and hoist myself off the wall and over to him. He quickly wraps his arms around my legs, just under the globes of my backside. He lowers me slowly, as if he’s taunting me; I can feel every muscle ranging from his broad, strong shoulders to his tree-trunk thighs. As I make my descent, I unintentionally smooth my hands down his hard chest and stomach, feeling nothing but solid, granitelike muscle. He’s the one who caught me, but somehow I’m the one intensely short of breath.

I’m blushing from my chest to the tips of my hair, and I’m positive it’s obvious. If my rosy cheeks weren’t a dead giveaway, there’s the fact that my nipples feel like they could cut glass. Thank God for thick-padded sports bras. The smell of Will lingers in my nose, a mix of sweat and cedar, simple, intoxicating, and ridiculously irritating. He should not smell this good. Will grabs my hand, and we begin running again. I can see Lo and Smith just up ahead. They’re making us work to catch up.

The next obstacle is about a quarter mile up the path, and it actually looks pretty appealing right now. It’s a mud pit with barbed wire strung neatly across it, about two feet above the crawling area. I don’t know why I’m excited for this, but I surmise it’s likely because I’ve never been afraid of getting a little dirty. And also, the mud is sure to cool down my overheated skin.

“Stay low and don’t lift up until your whole body makes it out the other side,” Will reminds me.

“I got it. This isn’t my first rodeo, Rambo.” I smile and dive into the mud.

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