“They all look…big.” Mark gulped.
“We’re competing against them,” I announced. “And we have to win. Whatever hate’s between us right now or desire to win against one another, we can’t lose this, Mark! We can’t!” Panic started taking over as my eyes took in the giants standing around us. “We’ll have speed on our side, take in your height, mine—”
“The hell? I’m six-two. Did you just call me short?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, have you not taken in Andre the Giant over there standing next to She Ra? If not, I’ll wait!” I threw my arms up.
“Who’s She-Ra?”
I gasped. “You’re dead to me!”
“I was kidding. I take hot women from comic books and TV shows very seriously, as should the rest of the world. Didn’t Netflix re-up the show? I think I saw something about that—”
I cupped a hand over his mouth. “Know your audience. Not the time, Mark!”
His eyes flashed as I pulled my hand away. “Damn, you’re sexy when you’re competitive,” He tugged at my shorts, his fingers digging against my naked skin. “We should wash these…together…while still clothed. In the shower…”
I swayed toward him then jerked back. “Stop that! It’s distracting.”
“So are you.” He winked.
“That too! That wink needs to stop. We have to focus on something other than taking each other’s clothes off, and I swear if you have some sort of STD, I’m killing you in your sleep. We haven’t even been—” It occurred then how truly dumb I’d been. “Oh God! We’ve been having unprotected sex!”
I may have shouted it.
The cameras may have caught it.
And I suddenly wondered if there were mics because the audience semi-gasped all before their attention was drawn to the announcer; of course, Max Emory, decked out in his own red joggers, shirtless with an impressive and tanned body, standing next to a gorgeous woman who gave us a little wave like she was on our team.
At least one person was!
“Are you not entertained?” Max said again for the crowds.
I shuddered.
“Hey.” Mark elbowed me. “I’m clean, all right? I haven’t been with a girl since my last checkup, if you must know…and it’s been…a bit long. Plus, I’m assuming you’re on birth control. You’re a smart girl, which also makes me an idiot for not checking, so I’m sorry. You’re right, it was really, really dumb…” He hung his head like he was disappointed in himself, instantly making me feel bad.
I scowled. “Of course, I’m on birth control, and how long?”
His head snapped up. “Pardon?”
“How long since… you know…”
Max started introducing everyone. “Not really the time, Olivia…” His teeth clenched.
“Don’t make me throw the birth control out and trap you into marriage, Mark. How long!”
Again semi-silence.
Weird.
“Twelve months, eleven days and…” He coughed out another number, but I didn’t catch it since music picked up on the loudspeakers. “Shit.”
“Today, our three teams will be competing against our new interns in everyone’s favorite test of endurance, mental fortitude, strength, and most of all, teamwork!”
The crowds cheered.
“The winners,” Max said into the microphone, gaining everyone’s silence and rapt attention, “will each receive honor and the ability to call themselves champions!”
“That’s it?” Mark said under his breath.
“Oh!” Max laughed. “And did I forget to mention? Two brand new cars courtesy of Reid Emory. His donation’s a favorite every year. God, I love my brother, unless he’s being a jackass, which is at least half the time, thus me forcing him to donate cars every year.” He grinned. “But I digress. If our interns win, they will both be awarded a whopping hundred points. If they lose and also fail to understand the true meaning of teamwork…points will be retracted from their overall score, and they’ll be headed to the losers’ room for the evening.”
“Losers’ room?” I hissed. “What the hell is the losers’ room?”
“We are literally primed to lose!” Mark added. “I don’t take steroids, which already puts those idiots at an advantage.”
“There will be a judge at each station, enjoy your mile trek through the land of Sparta, and remember, only the smart survive.”
“We’re smart,” I encouraged. “We’ve got this.”
“I hate my truck.”
“I hate my car.”
We looked at each other, high-fived, and walked toward the start line.
Max held up a horn and counted. “Three, two, one, go!”
I charged ahead and then realized that Mark’s shoe was untied and nearly killed him on the spot as I yelled his name. “Mark, hurry!”
“Sorry!” He ran after me as we caught up to the rest of the group.
“Do you see the first challenge?” he called.
I blinked over at where the contestants stopped in front of a large target.
“Hatchet throwing!” Mark came up behind me. “Let me start; I practiced this in college.”
“For what reason?” I yelled.
“Um, fun?” He threw the first, hitting a direct bull’s-eye.
The judges kept yelling, “Three hits and run on.”
“Also, they had cheap beer.”
“There it is.” I crossed my arms as he threw the third one.