Page 38 of Run for the Money

Nick breaks the silence, nothing but panic in his eyes.

“Melanie we…we can’t keep doing this. I…fuck.”

He practically runs out of the stable. I watch his perfectly broken-in Levi’s disappear through the open doors, my heart pounding. He’s right—again. We can’t keep coming together and springing apart. I can’t make out with him in front of an audience of our peers, or sit through anymore strained road trips by his side while we pretend we don’twant to rip each other’s clothes off. I’m not dancing around the tension anymore. It’s ruining my focus and jeopardizing our plans.

Fifth place isn’t good enough. Friendship isn’t good enough. Kissing me once might be a mistake, but twice is a dead giveaway. He wants me. I want him. When he gets back to our hotel room, we’re dealing with that reality, head-on.

Chapter 12

Melanie

It takes Nick forever to come back to our room. The irony isn’t lost on me—this morning, all I wanted was for him to stay away, and now I’m on tenterhooks waiting for him to return. I have enough time to shower, eat every snack I packed, pace one thousand miles into the hotel carpet, and talk myself in and out of my plan no less than a dozen times before I hear the telltale beep-click of the lock disengaging.

I sit on the side of my bed, hidden by the privacy screen, and wait for Nick to come all the way into the room. His boots thud against the floor near the door when he kicks them off. Through the screen, I can see his silhouette moving tentatively toward his bed.

“Melanie?”

So far so good—if he’s looking for me, chances are low he’s going to run off again.

“I’m here,” I say.

“We should talk. About…what happened,” he says.

“About making out in the stable? Couldn’t agree more. Have a seat. Get comfortable.”

He hesitates, then perches on the end of his bed. I can see his legs from the knee down poking out beyond the barrier of the screen, the rest of him nothing but shadows. That makes it easier to be bold, but my heart is pounding in overdrive. He’s feeling it too; his right leg bounces, so fast it’s almost a tremor.

“This can’t keep happening,” he starts. “I could make a million excuses about being exhausted or stressed, not thinking clearly, but the truth is—”

“You’re right,” I interrupt. “We are exhausted. We are stressed. It got to me today, and that’s not okay. Fifth place isn’t acceptable. You know why my second run was garbage? Why I couldn’t focus? Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He pushes to his feet and takes a few steps toward the door before stopping. “I don’t know what to do, Melanie. I’ve been walking around for hours, trying to figure out asolution. This isn’t…I never…what the hell are you thinking right now? You’re too calm. It’s freaking me out.”

I grin to myself behind the screen.Welcome to my world, Korbel.

“I know exactly what we should do,” I say.

“Wanna fill me in?” he asks, sounding desperate.

I stand up and check to make sure my robe is hanging just right, then step out from behind the privacy screen. Guess there was a reason to pack it after all. Nick turns, presumably to continue his agitated walking, but the sight of me stops him. His eyes go wide and color floods his cheeks.

“Melanie Archer, there better be clothing underneath that robe.”

Not a stitch, but that’s a fun surprise for later.

“We tried pretending to be friends, and it worked for all of ten seconds,” I say, stalking closer to him. “Time to try something else.”

He shuts his eyes, balls up his fists. “This is a bad idea.”

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see. “Yeah, it’s a bad idea, we have so much going on, such a distraction. Et cetera. That’s bull, Nick.”

I slide my arms around his neck and his eyes pop open. His throat bobs and his hands hover near my waist, not quite touching me. I can feel the tide turning my way. One little push should tip him over the edge.

“We have a serious problem, but the solution is simple,” I say. “We need to finish what we started in the stable.”

The words come out steady and sure, but inside I’m a mess. It’s a bigger risk than the Naked Cabin Incident when I tried to win Paul back. But I have a feeling the reward is bigger, too. If I don’t take this chance, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

“Melanie, please,” he whispers. “It’s really not that simple.”

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