Never Sweeter (Dark Obsession #1)(14)

Only he didn’t take it that way at all. He answered it straight, and sort of softly.

“Because you’re the only person outside the team I’ve told.”

Then carried right on as though it didn’t mean anything at all.

“Now…when I lunge I tend to throw everything I got into it. So what you have to do is use it against me. You have to come back at me immediately, while I’m still committed to it.”

“Tate, if you lunge at me chances are I’m going to pass out.”

“You stood your ground when Jason threatened you with a f*cking truck, Letty. If that doesn’t make you lose your goddamn mind, nothing on earth will.”

He paused then, but not to give her time to process this bombshell. He just needed it to clear the table to one side, so he could get into what she assumed was a lunge position—left leg crooked, right leg back, shoulders forward. While she stood there, heart suddenly thumping slow and thick, mouth too open, eyes too wide. If he glanced at her for even a second he would see how much he’d just affected her. How awesome it was to hear him talk as though she was brave.

But he didn’t. Like with the confession about his weaknesses—he just hit it and carried on.

“Okay, so you see how the plane of my thigh is completely open here? You need to use that. You need to use it like a step—just put your foot right up on it.”

“I really don’t think I can put my foot up on your leg.”

“Sure you can. Just give it a shot.”

“You say that like you’re not seven hundred feet tall. I think I might have to do the splits just to get anywhere close to your thigh,” she said, though that wasn’t really what bothered her.

It was the thought of what she might reveal when she did it. She was wearing jeans, but the jeans would probably pull taut in places she didn’t want them to. Parts of her would crease and form rolls—and then there was her lack of balance. He knew she would wobble.

She did wobble when she tentatively attempted it.

She gingerly lifted her right leg, and almost went sprawling.

And there was no relief when she finally planted her foot.

“Now just climb. Get ahold of my shoulder and climb until you’re behind me.”

“Are you sure this is a method of defeating you? It sounds more like you want to help me audition for Cirque du Soleil. In which case I should probably remind you: I have all the coordination of a drunk puppy.”

“Seriously, just try it. It’s way easier than it looks.”

“And you know this how? Had a lot of girls springboard off your thigh?”

“Sure, it’s my favorite thing to do from The Kama Sutra.”

She jerked back at that—though not all the way off him.

And curiously, when she spoke her tone seemed to lack any real anger.

“Are you serious Tate? Is this just you goofing off because—”

“No, no, Letty I’m kidding, okay, that was me kidding. There is no thigh springboard in The Kama Sutra. I swear to god. That was just a joke come on. Come on, just put your hands on my shoulder.”

“I…okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

She reached forward, tentative as a fawn. Eyes constantly on his face, to judge whether some sudden terrible shock was coming. Yet when it did come, she still wasn’t prepared.

“Oh baby, that feels so good,” he said.

Followed by her losing most of the shit she had left.

There was hand waving and jumping back and stern words.

“You f*ck face. Fuck you I hate you so much.”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that and know you weren’t being serious. Kind of like hearing it come out half full of laughter.”

“It’s going back to all full of fury in a second.”

“No it’s not; come on. Just go for it.”

“What exactly am I going for here? I mean, once I’m behind you, what then?”

“Then you get me in a headlock.”

“Oh my god this is…this is the most ludicrous self-defense class I’ve ever been a part of.”

“How many have you been to prior to right now?”

“Like twenty. In my head. While watching Kill Bill.”

“And you think this is ridiculous? In that movie she escapes a coffin by punching it. This is completely reasonable by comparison—I mean all you have to do is grab ahold of my shoulder and haul yourself around me. Just think of it like mountain climbing. My body is a rocky outcrop you need to get past,” he said, which in some ways made it easier. She managed to get her hands on him, at the very least.

It was just keeping her hands on him, once they were there. He was almost impossibly muscular and solid seeming, in a way she wasn’t really ready for. It was like grabbing the haunches of some enormous and powerful animal, right before it pounced.

And then there was the heat.

Was it normal for a human being to be this hot? Suddenly she was sweltering—though after a second she realized it wasn’t just the contact. It was all the places where no contact was happening at all. His hand was almost but not quite touching her ankle, as though waiting to support her if she lost her balance. But it didn’t feel like the safeguard he obviously intended. It felt like it was supercharging the air between them. She could almost make out the imaginary blister it was raising on her skin—but what could she say? Touching me is bad but not touching me is worse? That sounded insane. She would never be able to fully explain it.