Page 20 of Going for Gold (Sweet Cravings 3)

"No way. That was an epic prank orchestrated by Lars Berg."

"The Swedish skier? I remember him from when I was a kid."

"Yup, that's him. Apparently he only came back to the sport to pull that prank. He did horrible in his event that year, but he won an unofficial gold for the best prank of the year. Or maybe you remember in the 90s when Sally Jones threw a banana peel onto the track and caused Uma Longhorn to slip. After that the CPG declared..."

"CPG?" I asked.

"Committee for Pranks at the Games. They host a private party at the end of the games where they award a prize for the best prank. Anyway, after the banana incident, the CPG made a new rule that pranks are only permissible that don't interfere with an actual sporting event."

"How have I not heard about this before? Is it mainly a Canadian thing?"

"Canadian?" Bryce looked confused. "What makes you think I'm Canadian? It's not like I say 'eh' a lot and love hockey and maple syrup."

"Oh my God! That's what I first thought when I saw you in that track suit. I was so surprised that you were Canadian."

Bryce burst out laughing. "Wow, I guess this disguise is even better than I thought."

I tried to fake a laugh to hide my embarrassment. How did I not realize that was a disguise? "Just kidding. I knew you were American this whole time."

"Really?" asked Bryce. He didn't sound convinced. "Because I'm pretty sure you actually thought I was Canadian."

"Okay, fine. I admit it..."

"Shit, someone's coming," said Bryce. He put one hand on my hips and the other on my face and pushed me against the wall.

I gulped. I looked into his eyes for a second before he pressed his lips against mine.

Holy shit! Stop!

But I couldn't stop or the person would see us. I decided the best course of action was to just stand there with my lips closed while Bryce pretended to kiss me. Actually, he wasn't really pretending. He was passionately kissing me, occasionally flicking his tongue against my lips in hopes that I would let him in. It was so hard to resist kissing him back. I never realized how hard it would be to not kiss someone back, especially someone who looks like Bryce. It was like trying to not hit someone back after they just punched you in the face, only instead of getting a busted jaw, I was getting incredible horny. Stupid sex ban.

"Get a room," muttered the guy as he passed us. If a little kissing in a stairwell bothered him, I wondered what he thought about all the public sex that was happening in the athletes' village every day.

When we couldn't hear his footsteps any longer, Bryce gave me one more kiss and then pulled back.

"Sorry about that," he said with a huge smile that made it seem like he wasn't actually sorry at all. "Standard spy procedure. Although I feel like you could have sold the kiss a little better."

I laughed awkwardly. "Sorry. I kind of have a boyfriend."

"Kind of?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah. I mean no." I sighed. "It's complicated."

"Well it's not a big deal. It was an undercover spy kiss, so it doesn't count for anything. It's like an actor making out with a co-star on film. Just part of the job." He feigned a very serious face.

"Right," I said, trying to convince myself that I wasn't a horrible person for not pushing him off me. God, I'm just as bad as Chris! I looked away from Bryce.

After a few awkward seconds, Bryce cleared his throat. "Let's keep moving. We have some boxers to freeze!" He turned and started sprinting up the stairs two at a time.

He didn't stop until we got to the fifth floor. God was he fast. I was in great shape, but I couldn't even come close to keeping up with him. I was glad that it wasn't any higher. I ran enough stairs at practice every day. I didn't need to be doing more in my free time.

Bryce pushed through the door and stopped in front of room 524. "Game time." He pulled a walkie talkie out of his track suit and pressed the button. "Pink Ocelot, what's our status? Green Tiger, over."

"Green Tiger, the nest is empty. Mission is a go. Pink Ocelot, over."

"Copy that, Ocelot. Over." Bryce put his radio back in his pocket and jiggled the door handle. It was locked.

"How are we gonna get in?" I asked.

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