Page 42 of Take A Number
“What?” Dean’s posture perks up as he straightens his bicycle helmet. “You didn’t tell me it was a race. I would have stretched.”
I cut Dean aWTF facewhile Lynsey rolls her eyes and continues, “There’s a sweet prize for the winning couple and let me tell you…you want this prize, guys. I want this prize.”
“Yeah!” Max calls out, clapping his hands. “Let’s do this.”
“Since we’re all taking the same trail, couples will be spread out with five minutes between each heat. Kate and Miles…you’re first. Dean and Norah…you guys will be last. We’ll meet at the bar at the bottom of the hill and the trail guys will write down our finished times for us to reveal at the festivities tonight.”
“Woohoo!” Kate squeals excitedly. “I don’t even like sports but this is going to be fun.”
Fun? Why does she think this is going to be fun? Nothing about this seems fun.
“Let’s go,” Miles bellows and he and Kate shove off, leaving a trail of dust behind.
Dean hops off his bike and begins to stretch. My eyes widen. “Are you being funny right now?”
“Funny about what?” he asks, extending his arm over his head.
“About the stretching. This a bunny trail, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, you’re warming up like we’re on the Amazing Race or something.”
Dean stops what he’s doing and walks over to where I’m standing, trembling over my bike. “Hey Norah, now might be a bad time to tell you I’m crazy competitive.”
“What?” I exclaim, my entire body erupting in sweat.
Dean grimaces and swipes his finger along my upper lip. “We can’t lose this race. I want that prize.”
“You don’t even know what the prize is,” I shout, my voice venturing on shrill.
Dean’s shoulders lift. “I don’t care. We can do this. I believe in you.” He kisses me chastely on the lips and adds, “Plus, Kate is a horrible gloater if she wins. We have to crush her.”
The other couples take off one by one, and I get this strange feeling I might never see them again. I should have made eggs Florentine for their final meal instead of omelets. If that’s their last memory of me, it’s going to be kind of basic.
Dean holds his fist out to me when it’s our turn and I shake my head nervously at him, gripping my handle bars so tightly, my forearms are already aching. The trail guy waves for us to go and before I can smarten up and abandon this ship, I push forward and begin my descent down this so-called bunny hill.
“Bunny hill my ass!” I scream as I turn off the emergency exit ramp on the trail the guide informed us of during our orientation session. He told us it was meant for the weak and after what I’ve experienced so far…I am so very weak!
A small brewery with bike racks stationed outside comes into sight and I make a beeline for it, stumbling off my bike as I try to hop off while it’s still moving. I let it crash to the ground as I unbuckle my helmet and toss it into the nearby woods.
My heart is permanently lodged in my throat as it clears way to make room for my lungs that are going to explode. I place my hand over my chest and turn as I see Dean approaching on his bike, looking totally chill.
I point an accusing finger toward the trail we just departed. “That was not a bunny hill!” I exhale heavily and move to the fenced off vantage point that overlooks the mountain and the trail we were just on. It looks like this emergency exit is only halfway down the entire trail and I didn’t make it this far by choice.
It was by force.
I was forced into this.
By Dean, the Devil.
“Norah, what’s going on?” Dean asks as he places his bike into the rack and unclips his helmet. “We’re going to lose the race.”
I hold my finger up to silence him. “Your fault,” I bark out, pacing back and forth in my jogging shorts and wincing at my ass that feels like I sat directly on top of a pointy aspen tree. “You never warned me this trip would be this active. What the hell kind of shit are you trying to pull?”
Dean watches me pace in front of him, rubbing my ass cheeks and crying out in pain. “I didn’t realize the trail would be that fast. I’m shocked we’re the only ones who stopped at the halfway point.” He looks back at the few random people sitting outside on the patio drinking beer like it’s just a casual Saturday.
“And all that bullshit cheering you did,” I snap, ripping my gloves off and throwing them to the ground next to my bike. “‘Doing great, sugar! Keep up the pace, sugar! We can catch ’em, sugar!’ Could you not hear me screaming?”
