Page 56 of Until It Was Real

“If you don’t let him buy you a sweatshirt, I will,” Blossom whispers to me.

“Oh, please. You’ve got your sights set on Jaxon and I know it.”

She sniffs and lifts her nose in the air. “Jaxon doesn’t know I exist.”

Which is painful for her, so I let it go. I’m not teasing her about the man in the presence of his brother.

“This sweatshirt is cute.” Rhett holds up a hoodie with a picture of a seal holding a stop sign on it. “Have you met Sammy yet?”

My brow wrinkles. “Sammy?”

“Arms up.”

My body automatically responds to the command in his voice despite my mind still fighting the idea of him buying me anything.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he settles the sweatshirt on my body.

“Sammy?” I prompt again because the warmth in Rhett’s eyes is doing weird things to me. Such as making me want to give in to him. But I can’t. I know better.

“He’s a seal,” Rhett explains as he pays for the sweatshirt. “He enjoys lazing in the middle of the street and barking at tourists for attention.”

He sounds adorable. “I love seals. I want to meet him.”

“We’ll go another time. But now we need to kick my brothers’ asses at the gauntlet.”

“Yes.” Blossom pumps her fist.

Rhett takes my hand and steers me through the crowd until we reach the high school. “This is where the gauntlet is held.”

Blossom shivers. “A gauntlet in a high school makes total sense.”

“It’s in the gymnasium,” he says as we join the line.

I glance around and notice several people doing stretches. “Remember. I warned you I’m not a runner.”

Rhett throws his arm around my shoulders. “They’re tourists. Tourists never win the gauntlet.”

“Blossom and I aren’t native islanders.”

He winks. “Good thing you have me.”

“How does this work?” Blossom asks.

“We each get a piece of contraband when we enter. The goal is to make it through the gauntlet with the contraband before a Prohibition officer catches you.”

“Do the officers have weapons?” Blossom asks.

I gasp. “What?”

She shrugs. “It was only a question. Don’t worry. I’m not planning to kick or slap an officer. Unless one happens to be Jaxon.”

Rhett barks out a laugh. “Jaxon isn’t a guard.”

“Bummer,” Blossom mutters.

“You ready?” Rhett asks when the door opens in front of us to allow us entrance.

“Does it matter if I say no?” I ask.

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