Page 69 of The Mistakes I've Made
“Yep,” she said just before a mischievous grin appeared on those rosy red lips of hers. “Race you to the shore!”
And then she took off.
Just when I’d thought I had this nerdy, indoor girl pegged.
I took off after her, laughter welling up from my insides as my legs dug into the sand to try to catch up.
Damn, she was actually a lot faster than I had given her credit for.
But I was a seasoned runner.
We darted around the shore, and finally, as my feet splashed into the water, I grabbed her around the waist, her voice squealing out in delight, and I declared myself the winner.
Her legs kicked, sending salt water into my face.
“No, no, no!” She laughed. “I beat you fair and square!”
“Did not!”
“Did so,” she announced. “I said, first one to the shore, and clearly, that was me!”
I’d waded us out past several waves. The water reached mid-thigh for me but probably waist deep if I were to let her go.
“Hmm,” I said playfully. “You see, that’s kind of a problem for me.”
“Oh, really?” She joined in the fun, not caring in the least that I hadn’t let her go as I ventured out a little deeper.
“Yeah, you see, I’m kind of a sore loser.”
“Really?” Her lips formed a sort of knowing smirk. “I would never have guessed.”
“I know. Such a surprise.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Anyway, I tend to act out.”
“Act out?”
I nodded. “When I lose. Not violently, mind you. But I might be known to just—” My hands around her waist were her only warning before I lifted her up and tossed her.
When her face broke the surface of the water, her dark hair now wrapped around her like liquid silk and those bright blue eyes searching, I knew I was going to get some serious payback.
“That was not nice,” she grinned, shaking out her wet hair.
“Like I said, I’m not a great loser.”
I watched as she bobbed over to me. We were deep enough now that she couldn’t touch the bottom, but I could.
A small advantage that she didn’t seem to need.
As soon as she got close enough to me, she pounced. Her legs went around my waist, and all her weight went to pushing me under.
Instantly, I was fish food.
When I came sputtering up for air, I was ready for war.
Instead of tossing her this time, I tried her tactic. Dunking. But she was prepared for that. Wrapping her legs around my waist, she’d made herself dunk-proof.
