Page 45 of The Heartbreak List

“I’m going to ask one last time…” He peers into my eyes like he’s trying to see so much deeper. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

The bell sounds.

I launch myself at him as I sound my battle cry. The surprise is enough for me to get the upper hand. The Jell-O makes everything slippery, and he might be light on his feet, but that doesn’t matter when there’s nothing grippy about what you’re standing in.

He grabs me around the waist as he falls, dragging me with him. Protecting me, with the way he makes sure I land on top of him and not on the hard floor. “Oof. Holy shit, Indy.”

He’s trying to drag raspberry scented oxygen into his lungs, and I’m not going to waste the opportunity. I scramble up to straddle him. My knees are slipping and sliding and I’m essentially squirming on top of him with my hands pawing his bare muscles in an attempt to keep him in place long enough to be declared the winner.

It’s awkward as hell, and I’m already panting and puffing. I’m not a wrestler. I’ve never done this before. I literally have no idea how to win here. So it’s not surprising when he rolls over and takes me with him like I’m barely an inconvenience.

He manages to hold my hands to the floor, while the gelatin seeps into the back of my pants and tank top. The slimy texture makes everything that much more difficult. Somehow I twist free and get to my knees, but my back is to him, and I need to turn around in the slippery goo so I can tackle him again.

The other competitors are encouraging us on. They’ve picked sides and most of them are on mine. Probably because it’s clear that I need all the help I can get. I’m tiring quickly and Theo’s barely breaking a sticky sweat.

“Come here.” He growls as he bands one arm around me.

“That’s my boob,” I squeak when he accidentally grabs a handful.

“Fuck. Shit. Sorry.” He yanks his hand back like I’ve burned him, and I start to fall face first into the slime. Until he grabs a fistful of my tank top, and it tears as if it’s made of tissue paper. But his hold on the material is enough for him to yank me back.

“Oh my God.” I tumble into him, and we both fall on our asses. The material of my tank falls around my waist. Now the crowd is cheering because they’re getting an eyeful of blue lace and more cleavage than I would ever willingly show.

Theo grabs me around the waist. He moves with animalistic fluidity. It’s as though he’s gotten a handle on the slipping and sliding while I’ve exhausted myself. He beams down at me with such smug confidence as he holds my wrists above my head. “You might as well give up. You’re never going to win this one.”

His gaze drops. He swipes his bottom lip with his tongue. Swallows. My chest prickles with heat. My cheeks too. But there’s another sensation unfurling inside me. An awkward, uncomfortable awareness that this is too intimate.

He doesn’t even notice that I slip my hand free. Not until I form a fist and drive it into his junk.

He coughs and splutters as he bows over me. There are tears in his squinted eyes and his face is taking on a pallor. He rolls into the fetal position beside me, his hands cradling his balls. “What the hell, Indy?”

I might have overreacted a tad. I didn’t mean to cause him as much pain as I have. That doesn’t mean I won’t use it to my benefit. I straddle his hip and make a V with my arms. “I’m the winner.”

He groans, still acting like a baby. “Friends don’t punch friends in the junk.”

I lean down and whisper in his ear, “Friends don’t stare at their friend’s boobs either, but here we are.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” He manages to shove up onto his elbows as I climb out of the kiddy pool. Someone tells me I’m disqualified so Theo is the winner by default.

“Oops.” I pretend that I didn’t fully understand the rules we were told before we entered the pool while I wait for Theo to crawl out of the Jell-O. He’s covered head to toe. Traces of it stick to his chest and his back and his jeans. There’s a glop of it in his eyelashes. “You look a sight.”

“Oh, I look a sight?” He still looks pained as he drags a hand through his hair releasing pearls of the red sludge onto the oilcloth under our feet. He starts to chuckle as he reaches over and brushes a big chunk out of my hair.

“At least I didn’t hurt you too bad.” I hold my tattered top to my chest, still conscious of all the people around us. And the way he looked at me while he held me down on the bottom of the pool. The way I fizzed up inside.

“You cheated.” He glares at me.

“You were staring.”

“I wasn’t staring on purpose, but I’m a guy. I’m gonna notice when a woman, any woman, flashes her boobs at me.” He limps over and picks up his T-shirt, holding out to me. “Here. Take it.”

I grow hot again. This time it’s all embarrassment. Of course Theo wasn’t staring at my boobs because he wanted to. It was purely the surprise of my bra being suddenly on display that caught his attention. And my awkwardness is unnecessary. It isn’t like I...want Theo. And if I’m attracted to him, it’s because he’s attractive. So is Zac Efron but I don’t make a big deal out of that. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay with my sweatshirt.”

“Sure.” He tugs the stretchy-soft cotton over his shoulder and down his torso.

I pick up the warm pink fleece and tug it over my head. Only once I’m covered up do I strip off my ruined tank. “You got hurt, didn’t you? Your ankle…”

“I twisted it when you attacked me the first time.” He drops to the floor to put on his socks and boots. “It’s not a big deal.”

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