damn the pit ended before I got to the good part.
After the mud pit, the course wove into a dense forest. Most of the team started to split up even more, but Becca and I stayed close 194/890
together as the tree canopy darkened over the path. Midway through, I couldn’t see anyone near us other than Liam. For whatever reason, he was holding back and keeping pace with us instead of racing ahead.
The path continued through the forest until it was blocked by a giant lattice of rope that spanned a few yards above the ground. There was nowhere to go but up, unless you wanted to just walk around the path… but that was cheating.
"Geez, that's freaking tall," Becca huffed, bending forward and resting her hands on her knees. I followed suit and then twisted around to see Liam eyeing the rope lattice.
His shirt was covered in sweat and his dirty blonde hair was slicked back and sinfully sexy. I loved seeing that version of him; it 195/890
made me imagine him hot, sweaty, and naked above me.
Woah. Slow down there, tiger.
I caught his eye and he narrowed his gaze on me, tilting his head an inch to the side. I whipped my head back toward the rope and tried to control how flustered he made me feel.
"I can't go yet. I need to catch my breath," I said to Becca.
A flash of movement whipped by me as Liam passed us and started spanning the roped web. He made it look effortless, and Becca and I stood there gawking up at him as he climbed foot after foot. The whole process probably took him a minute, tops.
Well. Let’s add that to the list of things he can do.
196/890
1. Sex-up ladies
2. Play professional soccer
3. Wear Calvin Klein boxer briefs like it was his life’s calling
4. Climb tall rope things
"Let's go. The longer you stand there, the worse it seems," he shouted down to us.
Becca cast me an exasperated glance.
"I'll go first," I said, feeling more confident as I moved toward the bottom of the lattice.
"Take it easy and make sure you don't lose your footing. There's no net to catch you if you fall," Liam warned.
His words took whatever morsel of confidence I had and shredded it. Why the hell was Coach Davis making us do this? If I fell and broke my leg, I'd be out for the whole 197/890
season. Oh, but at least I’ll have bonded with my team. No, wait, I haven’t done that either.
I pushed aside the thought and started to climb up the web. It was strange trying to get my bearings because the lattice dipped forward and back as I climbed higher. My heart sank every time it shifted. Once I'd moved past the midway point, I knew there was no going back. I couldn't look down, and when I glanced up, Liam's intimidating gaze stared back at me, so I kept my eyes trained on the rope in front of me.
"C'mon, Kinsley. You're almost there,"
Liam urged me on. I took a deep breath and kept climbing. I was almost to the top when my foot missed the bottom rung of the rope that I was aiming for. My foot met empty air, 198/890
and I kicked out, trying to stabilize my weight, but I wasn't quick enough. My right arm slipped from where I was holding the rope above my head.
I gasped.
"Kinsley!" Becca yelled from the ground just as my heart kicked into overdrive.
Holy shit.
"Kinsley, reach up. Give me your arm, you're okay." Liam was soothing me even before he'd caught me. I used my core muscles to stretch my right arm to where his hands were reaching toward me. He scooped me up like he was pulling a little kid out of a pool.
One moment I was hanging there, feeling my body freeze in panic, and the next I was standing beside him on the plank of wood, breathing quick, shallow breaths.
199/890
"Holy shit," I laughed, resting my hands on my head and bending forward. I knew I was fine. I knew I would have been fine even if Liam hadn't helped me, but I still couldn't calm down.
Then Liam made it worse, ten trillion times worse, when his strong hand came to rest on my lower back. HELLO WARM AND
FUZZIES. My heart completely stopped—
as in took a vacation from my body— and then it kicked into overdrive.
"You’re okay, Kinsley,” he soothed. “You wouldn't have fallen. I wouldn't have let you fall," he said, soothing his hand back and forth along my back.
I was being slightly dramatic, but heights were not my forte. Plus, his hand felt so damn good— warm and possessive—
200/890
running along my spine like he did it every day.
“Yeah, because then the team would have been out a midfielder,” I joked.
His fingers pressed into the small of my back as he murmured, “That’s not the reason.”
Wait, what?
"Kinsley, are you okay?” Becca yelled up to me. “Jesus, don't scare me like that again!
You were about to slip and splatter your brains all over me! Not cute.” I smiled. "I'm fine. Now c'mon and please take your freaking time.” The moment Becca spoke, Liam’s hand retracted from my back as if he was awakening to the fact that he was touching me almost
inappropriately.
No,
it
was
201/890
inappropriate. His hand had been resting just two inches above my shorts. Which is about five inches above my vagina. So…
yeah, he was basically touching my vagina.
He took a small step away from me and then we watched Becca climb up the rope so slowly that at certain points I wasn’t sure she was actually alive anymore. When she finally reached the top, I pulled her into a tight hug and we both started laughing hysterically.
Exhaustion and adrenaline were a heady mixture.
"Are you guys good?" Liam asked, eyeing the two of us with a serious gaze. I dampened my lips and nodded, trying to repress the memory of his hand caressing my back.
202/890
He’s my coach. My off-limits coach. He’s like chocolate and I’m like pickles. They shouldn’t be mixed…
Unless… chocolate-covered pickles?
No.
They shouldn’t be mixed. Damnit.
"Kinsley?" Becca asked, drawing me out of my musings. I'd been staring at Liam the whole time, and I felt a blush creep across my cheeks.
"Yup. Good to go. Let's freaking finish this thing."
Chapter Eight
After the obstacle course from hell, there was still some time to head to the beach before the party that night. The weather was just turning warm enough for bikinis, but not warm enough to actually brave the frigid Pa-cific Ocean. The rookies and I were perfectly content to work on our tans and nap in the sun.
The afternoon zipped by, and before I knew it I was sitting on Becca’s bed, waiting for her to finish getting ready.
"What about this?" she said, throwing a dress out of her closet.
"That'd be cute with your blonde hair," I answered halfheartedly. This process was taking way too long, and Becca would look good in any of the three dozen dresses now 204/890
littering the center of her room. I was tempted to lay on them like a pile of leaves, but I was supposed to be focused on helping her find an outfit.