Page 12 of Up All Night

“Yes, race,” I reiterated. “You know, where two or more people compete to make it to the finish line first.”

“I know what a race is.” He gave me a patronizing stare. “I’m just in no condition to race up these stairs.”

“Is that because you’re afraid to lose to a girl?” I pushed.

“What? No.” I was clearly testing his patience. “And under normal circumstances, I would totally smoke you.”

I looked him up and down. “Hmm. I doubt it.”

A look of confidence replaced his annoyance. “There’s no doubt about it. I would win.”

“It looks to me like you’re using an excuse so you don’t have to lose to your amazing neighbor.” I give him a cheeky grin.

His face turned serious, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. “Fine. You want to race, let’s race. First one to my apartment door wins.”

“Why you’re apartment door? Why not mine?”

I was being a brat but a brat with a plan. My apartment was on the fourth floor, and if my plan was going to work, then he would need to go up more than two flights of stairs.

He gritted his teeth. “Fine. The first one toyourapartment door wins.”

I smiled up at him, realizing for the first time how our height difference had to be at least six inches. I liked it when a guy had several inches on me. It made me feel small and girly when a guy could tower over me in a manly and protective way.

Not that I should have even been thinking about that when it came to West. He could be tall and manly all he wanted. What did I care? I shook my head, getting rid of those thoughts and focusing on racing him up the stairs.

“On your mark,” I started.

“Wait,” he interrupted. “Why do you get to say when we get to go?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Because it was my idea.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he argued.

“Everything,” I answered. “If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Exactly,” he said exasperated. “I don’t even want to be doing this. The least you could do is let me say when to go.”

I placed my hands on my hips and tilted my head to the side as I looked at him. “Are you going to be a sore loser?” Realizing what I said, I added with a giggle. “No pun intended.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he said. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He got in a starting stance, wincing as he bent his legs a little.

“On your mark,” I started again.

“Get set,” he chimed in before I had a chance to say it.

“Go!” we both yelled.

I jumped into action and started taking two stairs at a time. I’d only have the first flight of stairs to get my lead while his muscles started to warm up. Rounding the second flight of stairs, I kept my speed up, but as I started on the third flight his footsteps sounded close behind me. He was gaining on me quickly, and I pushed faster.

I’d barely put my hand on my apartment door when his hand came smacking next to mine.

We were both breathing heavy, our hands still on the door. I turned my head to the right to find his body close behind me, his arm caging me in.

“I call a redo when my legs aren’t screaming at me,” he said, looking down at me.

Looking back up at him I tried to ignore how much I liked the smell of his cologne. “I have to say that was pretty impressive in a suit.” My voice came out breathless, but it had more to do with how close we were than the run up the stairs. Having his body this close to mine was doing funny things to me. Things I shouldn’t be feeling.

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