laying Games (Games #2)(10)
Author: Jessica Clare

She had a point. I had to admit that when I saw everyone racing, it made my blood get fired up and my competitive spirit kick in. Still, I didn’t know if I could deliberately push ahead of Brodie, not when I’d be just as happy with the last place check. It seemed selfish somehow. Even though Brodie hadn’t been awesome to me on the race, the race would end and he’d still be my brother long after these people were out of my life. So I said nothing.

"Well, at any rate, I’m glad we’re allied with you and not Brodie. He doesn’t seem the loyal type," she said with a yawn. "You want the first shower? I’ll wait until Dean gets back and we can share ours."

A shower sounded incredible. I pulled myself up from the bed and grabbed my backpack. "I promise not to use all the hot water."

"Good." She waved me away, yawning and laying back on her bed.

By the time the guys got back with pizza, I had showered and changed into new clothes, and was combing out my wet hair. We tore into the pizza, divvying it up four ways. I only ate two of my slices, being the smallest of the group, and nudged my extra slice over to Liam. He was a tall guy and would probably need the fuel.

He took it with a wink at me, and then devoured it.

Dean patted his stomach and glanced at the bathroom. "Shower free?"

"All yours," I told him, uncapping my bottle of water and taking another drink.

"Wait for me," Abby said, getting to her feet. "I thought we’d share."

"Just like old times," Dean said with a grin, and smacked Abby on the butt as she sauntered past him. They disappeared into the bathroom and I was left alone with Liam.

I glanced over at him as he wiped his hands with the napkin, and then looked over at me.

"So," he said, then paused.

"So," I said back.

He seemed more at ease now that it was just the two of us, and now that I wasn’t glowering at him every moment. Instead, he simply studied my face, as if considering me. After a moment, he stuck his hand out. "I think we got off on the wrong foot on this race. Hi, I’m Liam."

I laughed and took his hand. "Hi, I’m Katy."

"And what brings you on The World Races, Katy?"

"Well," I said, crossing my legs and getting comfortable on the bed. "I actually didn’t want to be on the show. I got talked into it because Brodie needed a partner. And I want the money to invest in my business."

"Business?" He looked impressed. "What kind of business?"

"I have a custom cakes and cupcakes business," I said proudly. "Katy’s Short Cakes."

He nodded, as if it somehow fit me, and then he crossed his legs on the bed until he was sitting, facing me. "So you’re a baker?"

"I am." It felt weirdly intimate to be facing each other on the bed like this. It was…direct. And personal. There was no hiding or averting eyes with this. We were one on one, face to face.

"And the pigtails? Are you a children’s baker or something?" There was a hint of a smile on his mouth.

I groaned and ruffled a hand through my loose, wet blonde hair. "The pigtails were decided by casting, not by me. I think they picked it because I’m short."

"And because you’re cute," he agreed. "It makes you look perky."

For some reason, I blushed at that. So he thought I was cute? Or just perky? Perky didn’t necessarily mean attractive. Squirrels were perky. "So, what about you?"

"What about me?" His dark eyes studied my face.

"What made you come on The World Races?"

His mouth twisted a bit. "The label."

I frowned at him. "The label?"

"Yeah. Tesla wanted to go on the show. Thought it’d be a good opportunity since our next record drops in the fall, when this airs. We had a large lead time." He shrugged. "The label wanted one of the band members to go with her. I was picked."

"So you and Tesla aren’t," I gestured with my hand. "You know."

His eyes widened. "Oh, god no. She’s just a bandmate. You know, the whole Finding Threnody thing." And he looked at me like I should know exactly what he was talking about.

I winced. "Is it bad if this is the part that I say that I’ve never heard of you?"

He stared.

"I listen to country music," I said lamely. "Sorry. I’m sure your band is good."

He continued to stare.

"I’ll buy your CD when I get home," I told him. "I promise."

He shook his head a little, as if to clear it, then laughed. "So you really don’t know who we are?"

"Well," I told him. I thought for a moment, trying to determine the best way to say it without hurting his feelings, and then gave up. "Not a clue. Brodie’s a fan, though."

Liam chuckled and shook his head. "Well, that explains why you weren’t very friendly to me."

"Are a lot of girls friendly to you because you’re in a rock band?"

"Yes," he said simply.

I snorted. "They might be until you push them down reaching for their football."

He scowled. "It was an accident."

"How do I know that?" I asked innocently, putting a teasing lilt in my voice. "Maybe you thought it was a mosh pit."

That slow, almost reluctant smile spread across his lean face again. "Now I know you’re f**king with me."

"Just a little."

He laughed. "I suppose I deserved that."

I studied him as he smiled. I’d initially thought Liam tall, grungy, and a little scary. The piercings were new territory for me, as were the tattoos. He even had them on his neck. But the smile he extended my way was genuine, and for a moment, he looked like any other guy my age that just happened to be covered in black tattoos, multiple facial piercings, and was the lead guitarist in a supposedly big deal rock band.

"So…" he rubbed his chin. "I suppose there’s a special irony in this considering that neither you nor I wanted to be on the race."

"We could always sabotage the next leg of the race and win ourselves an extended stay in Acapulco," I told him, keeping my voice innocent.

"Is that what you want to do?"

I considered it. I really, really did. But we were still in the race, and we were doing rather well, if I admitted it to myself. And Liam wasn’t a bad partner, as long as we didn’t run into any more mukluk or eating challenges on the race. "Part of me wants to bail out on the race, but a bigger part of me wants to see how far we can go."

He nodded. "Me too." That dark, intense gaze focused on me again. "So why did you kiss me at the Blarney Stone?"

Oh. Wow, okay, that was super direct. I thought about my answer for a moment, then shrugged. "I wanted to?"

"You did?"

"Well." I ran a finger across the blanket. "Abby told me that if we made good TV, we stood a better chance of staying in the race. That the producers would rig things to ensure that we’d do better. So, I kissed you." I gave another shrug, trying to make it seem casual even though I was feeling rather nervous. "Good TV."

Liam watched me for so long without saying anything that I began to wonder if it was a mistake to tell him. After a long moment, he said, "So it was just for TV?"

I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Maybe?"

He considered this. Then, he leaned in. "You want to keep making good TV, then?"

“What do you mean?”

Liam gave me a wicked smile. “I mean we make sure that they keep us around as long as possible by making some really good TV.”

And just like that, heat flushed through my body.

That night, in the hotel room, Abby and Dean took one bed, and Liam and I took the other. We slept clothed, of course, but the bed was small enough that I couldn’t move without bumping into his arm, or leg. At one point, I woke up to find his arm around my waist, and a tingle of anticipation moved through me.

But then he shifted and his arm moved away again. I bit my lip, thinking. Just a fluke, then? Of course it was. So why had I been so thrilled at the simple touch?

Paris, France

"There’s the Palais Garnier," I told my partner, pointing at the majestic building in the distance. "We’re in the right place."

"Come on, then," he said, and grabbed my hand in his, pulling me down the busy streets of Paris.

That weird feeling fluttered in my stomach when his hand grasped mine. That goofy flutter had pretty much been my constant companion on this leg of the race. The Liam that had been my silent companion at the beginning of the team-up? Gone.

Instead, I found myself with a Liam that I didn’t quite know what to do with. A Liam that was attentive, asked for my opinion on directions and flights, and liked to lean in and whisper into my ear when we were sitting close together. Unlike Brodie, Liam was proving to be a partner that stuck by my side, bought me drinks when he thought I might be thirsty, and generally made me feel valued.

He’d also taken to holding my hand.

It had thrown me off at first; we’d been at the airport, waiting for our flight into Paris when he’d simply reached over and taken my hand in his. I hadn’t missed the fact that Abby’s eyebrows had shot up to her hairline, or the fact that the cameras had zoomed in and then proceeded to hover for the next hour in the hopes that we’d do something exciting or flirty.

We were just making good TV. Sort of. Our flirting had definitely escalated to a different level, and it was a level I hadn’t quite been prepared for. Not that I was complaining. I’d started it, after all, with my impulsive kiss.

Except now that I’d started it? I was having a hard time distinguishing real from fake. The hand holding mine felt real. It was for the camera, I kept telling myself. But I couldn’t quite relax and accept that. Maybe I wasn’t as good as pretending as I thought I was.

Maybe I’d really wanted to kiss Liam. Which was weird. He wasn’t my type. He was silent, and tatted, and pierced, and famous. I was just small town Katy, who went to culinary school and wanted nothing more out of life than to make fancy cupcakes. We weren’t in the same league. We weren’t the same type. I normally went for big, muscular cowboys with boots and a tan. Liam was tall, lean, with dark hair and not much of a tan at all. But his eyes were dark and intense, and I found my gaze constantly going back to those fascinating piercings.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Liam stopped and dragged me close, his mouth hovering near my ear. I immediately froze, my breath catching in my throat. "To your left," he whispered. "Standing by the corner. It’s the Olympians. Do you see the flag anywhere?"

I glanced around and pretended to be studying the Paris streets. My gaze focused on a green and blue blurb at the far end of the Palais. The World Races logo. "I see it."

"Summer and Polly don’t see us yet," he murmured, tugging me close. "Good thing we’re in black and not a bright color."

He looped his arm around my shoulders and we pretended to be a couple, loitering with the crowd as we headed toward the Palais Garnier. The streets of Paris were incredibly busy, and buses whizzed past on a regular basis. The buildings around us were tall, adding to the vague feel of claustrophobia that I felt, sandwiched in between them. The Olympians wandered past, ultra-noticeable in their bright green, and appeared to be looking for the flag. They hadn’t spotted it yet. As soon as they headed in the wrong direction, I squeezed Liam’s hand and signaled that the coast was clear. We sprinted for the mat.