Page 74 of False Start

“So does that mean you’re scre?—?”

I stopped her with a hard look just as the bartender returned with my cider. I took my drink and found Trent with our pizza at a nearby table.

“Sorry,” he said through a mouthful of pizza. “I started without you.”

I shook my head. “No worries. I was chatting with Hayden, anyway.”

“What’d she have to say?”

“She saw us in the back of the bus. Told you to knock it off.”

He looked up with a grin. “Noted.”

TWENTY-FOUR

TRENT

I tappedat my phone screen, following the state highway away from the twelve stops we’d have to make over the course of the day. And the thirteenth: Natural Slide.

“It’s so far away from the rest of the stops.” I tipped my head back, an aggravated sigh escaping from my lips.

“We could always take the five-point penalty,” Kit said. “It’s not like we’re winning, anyway.”

Kit was right. The day three standings had posted late last night, and while we were top five, the top three teams were far enough ahead that they’d be hard to beat. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones to find the hidden points.

“But we’re close,” I said, feigning confidence. “In striking range.”

After the bus ride back to the hotel, the terrible comedy bits only compounded by Kit sitting perched on the very edge of the tiny seat, back ramrod straight so that we barely touched, I’d stayed up late scrolling through the race feed.

Anytime I tried to lie down, I could only think of Kit and her ass on my lap and her curves under my palms, and the faint alluring scent of fruit that clung to her skin and how soft she felt.All inconvenient thoughts when she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested.

Sibling energy.

So, research won out.

“Team Barbie got a five bonus points for hang gliding.”

Kit paled. “I’m not hang gliding. That’s insane. And expensive.”

“It doesn’t have to be expensive. Team Fast and Furries got three points for replacing a tire.”

“Are you seriously suggesting we damage the car?” Kit huffed.

I hadn’t pointed out the weird rattling, but we both heard it over the radio. I’d caught Kit under the hood this morning, flashlight jammed in her mouth as she surveyed the engine. When she’d emerged, she gave me a tight shake of her head and hadn't said another word about it.

“No, I’m just saying a roadside repair wouldn’t be the worst thing at this stage of the game. Or…we could use this detour to our advantage.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“It means we could try to wring out some bonus points out of the detour.”

“The detour is a punishment. We’re not getting points.” Her fingers tapped the steering wheel impatiently.

I reached across the car and covered her fingers with my hand, giving her a squeeze before pulling away. “Or the detour could be an opportunity. I made a list of things I think they might reward.”

I fished the list out of my jeans pocket. Blue ink covered the page, bad ideas crossed out and refined to a final three.

“Oh, you have a list,” Kit muttered, shaking her head.

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