Page 92 of Puck You Very Much
“I’m just saying that if you wanted a fair contest, you could’ve told me,” he said. “That way, we can do this properly.”
“In other words, you want an argument that benefits you the most, huh?”
“No!” He almost growled. Wait, fuck it, hedidgrowl. Good thing his face was already red otherwise I would have another symptom of rage to which I could point. To me, this Zane Hirst had a lot more in common with the guy I’d punched at the Colter Bay Grill than the one with whom I’d enjoyed constant sexual romps. Something had struck a nerve. At first, I thought I’d done it, but I was sure it had to be about more.
“You’re that sure of it, huh?” I asked.
“Fucking-A I am.”
“In that case, why don’t we have a do-over? It’ll give you the chance to prove me wrong.”
“I’d love that.”
“Then let’s do it.”
Zane assumed the race position, bending one knee, and swinging his hanging arms a little. I stifled a laugh, shook my head, and joined him. We didn’t even have the chance to discuss what the winner would receive but something told me it wouldn’t matter. Bragging rights over me meant more to this jughead than anything.
“Okay,” he said. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“All right. On your mark… get set…go!”
Only Zane sprinted ahead of me before the wordgoleft his mouth completely. So much for a fair contest, huh? Some people are pretty desperate. No matter. I would win this contest one way or another.
I sprang forward, splitting the distance between us almost instantly. He glanced over his shoulder, heaving his chest out, like staying ahead of me even after cheating required all his might. Even better, his eyes widened like he couldn’t believe I’d already caught up with him.
Seconds later, I caught up with my boyfriend but didn’t advance ahead of him. Still, I hadn’t turned on all my jets just yet. Let’s say I wanted to toy with him and felt confident enough in victory that I could afford to get cute.
Then something you wouldn’t believe happened; Zane nearly slammed into a woman carrying a small child. Seriously. He nearly mowed right over her in her zeal to beat me. Thank God he slammed on the brakes. Only, I wouldn’t say he slammed on the brakes per se. He slowed down enough to swerve around her but that also allowed me to sail right past him.
We’d established no finish line for this race because bull-headed Zane had to start before agreeing on ground rules. In fact, he’d started before he was supposed to, and I was about to beat him anyway. With both arms reaching toward the sky, I declared myself the winner.
Zane caught up moments later, his lungs working overtime again. I thought better of taking a victory lap. Beating my boyfriend at anything was enough reward.
“That was bullshit, you know,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“What just happened. There was a fucking obstacle in the middle of the course.”
“We’re not on a course, Zane. We’re in the middle of a public park.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“What I’m saying is that if there’s an obstacle in the way, then something should’ve been done about it.”
“What did you want me to do? Stop so we could tell that woman to get the hell off of your little course?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I paused, waiting—well, hoping to God, really—that he would tell me he’d only been joking. No such luck. My boyfriend was as serious as a shotgun enema.
“Let’s do it again,” he said.
I didn’t respond with,Do what again?because I knew damn well what he meant… and I didn’t want to believe it.
