Page 61 of The Reality of Us
“Second!” Her eyes widened. “You should lower your expectations then, like, by a lot.”
His chuckle made her heart speed up. “Can I tell you a secret?” he murmured.
She nodded.
“The real money is in all the sponsorships you secure before it. The prize money’s the cherry on top. I think we could raise a fair bit, but really, I’d be happy to have some fun.”
Alice bit her lip. “Because you’re such a fun guy, Boy Scout?”
“I have my moments.” He tossed her a wink, and she worried a river of drool might escape as she remembered the fun they’d shared on her kitchen countertop.
Alice crossed her fingers. Hopefully, there’d be plenty of fun after dinner.
Later, once they’d finished eating and Owen had vowed to himself to never again serve Alice a meal that involved her licking her fingers regularly, he led her to the couch and grabbed his laptop. She scooted closer, her thigh pressed against his, ankles crossing as she rested them on his coffee table. She was wearing Christmas socks. In June.
“You follow this track for twenty-five kilometres.” Owen pointed at his laptop. “These are the campsites. Whoever arrives first gets to choose which one they want. These three”—he moved his hand—“are the best because they’re the most protected from the wind and closest to the drop station. The river’s not far too.”
Alice looked a little pale.
“Tents and overnight food are taken to the drop bag station here.” He moved the cursor. “And you collect them from there.”
“It’s quite serious, isn’t it?” She rubbed her face, leaning back against the couch, a bit of space appearing between them. Space he didn’t want or need.
The urge to comfort her overwhelmed him, and he draped his arm across her shoulders. He relaxed when she leant into him. “It’s not as full-on as it sounds, I promise. At each checkpoint, you collect a page from a book to prove you’ve been there. You get your page number at the start of the race. The hardest obstacle is the climb, and it’s not that high.”
Alice’s shoulders tensed. “Climb?” she squeaked.
“Right before the finish. See here?”
Alice chewed on her bottom lip.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Don’t laugh at me, okay? The running and hiking are fine. Well, maybe ‘fine’ isn’t the right word, but with some extra training—”
“I can help you with that,” he interjected.
She smiled softly, her hand landing on his leg. “—but I haven’t ever been camping and …”
“We can do a practice run here. I’ll get Raff’s tent next time I see him.”
Her smile didn’t meet her eyes. “Maybe.”
Something else was bothering her. He could tell. “What else?”
Her thumb brushed across his jeans, and he waited.
“I’m not great with heights.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but Alice cut him off, shaking her head quickly. “Please don’t say we can practise that. I’m not ‘not great’ with them. I’m terrified, and I’m pretty happy being terrified of them. There are a lot of things I need to work on about myself, but this isn’t one of them. If heights and I are never friends, it’s okay with me.” She pushed her fringe away from her face and clasped her hands together.
“Alice, honey,” he said. Apparently, that name wasn’t going anywhere. It slipped off his tongue like he’d been calling her that forever. He wasn’t complaining. “Only one team member does the climb.”
“Really?”
“And guess what?” He tipped her chin towards his face until their gazes met. “I love rock climbing.”
She exhaled loudly, and he swallowed a chuckle. When she lifted her shoulder, his gaze dropped to her bare skin, the green bra strap that had been teasing him all night. “I mean, if you insist, it’d be okay with me.”
