Page 34 of Try Me
“He said you found my note,” Lena said. “Way to be thorough.” Buried smack in the middle of one of the files, we’d found a yellow Post-it with aGood workand a happy face scrawled on it, which Chet had recognized as Lena’s handwriting. It’d then pointed us to some old depositions that might be helpful for our case.
I worked hard to keep the surprise off my face. “Yeah, but Chet was the one who had the idea to pull all the files.” I didn’t think I sounded begrudging, but I sure fucking felt it. Still, it was only fair to tell them the truth.
Chet’s gaze was a palpable heat on my profile, but I refused to look over at him. I was still pissed at myself because I’d gone into that file room encounter last week with a solid plan, and then I’d fucked it up by coming in my pants. I was sure I could’ve held off in better circumstances, but the fucker had gotten in my ear with his growly dirty talk, and I’d been helpless. I felt like I’d lost the most inane competition in the history of the universe. On a technical level, that was. On a physical level, it’d been hot as fuck.
I scooted to make room as John joined our circle with a round of hellos.
He nudged my shoulder with a companionable smile. “Got a partner yet?”
“Me,” Chet cut in, and to anyone else, it probably looked like he was smiling. I knew better. That was a smirk. A triumphant fucking smirk.
John lifted his hands, mock placating, and laughed. “Fine, fine. I’ll stick to my brethren.” He touched my forearm briefly. “I’ll catch up with you later. Got a question to ask you.”
Chet looked between the two of us, his gaze assessing, then swerved away as Mary whistled through her fingers to get our attention.
After a couple of group icebreakers and team-building activities as a large group, we split into pairs for the ropes course and smaller exercises.
“You know what’s annoying about you?” Chet posed the question philosophically while we waited for Houston and Liza to finish what sorta looked like a couple’s version of Pictionary.
“Aside from my ties, my mouth, my intelligence, skills on a basketball court, GPA, and the fact that I’m still breathing?” I rested an arm casually against the oak tree next to me, then drew it back with a frown and swatted an ant that had hitched a ride up my pinky.
“Some of those are arguable. But no, the most annoying thing is that you can flash a fucking smile and get away with murder. There are a bunch of ants on that tree, by the way.” Chet’s smile gleamed. Annoyingly brilliant and overly gallant for 10 a.m.
“If only I had a murder weapon.” I glanced around and pointedly eyed a stake lying on the ground nearby.
Chet reached for it. “Be my guest. It’ll save me the headache of applying to law school and incurring hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt that I’ll then spend the rest of my life paying off.”
“Wow. That went from zero to morbid fast.”
“It’s a talent of mine.” He gestured as Houston and Liza moved on. “And Audis aren’t actually that fast. Do you want to get started here or what?”
I slapped another ant from my arm, then leaned over to study the placard on the little table in front of us. “Okay, this should be pretty easy. We sit back-to-back, and one of us picks a card from the pile and describes it to the other one, who will try to draw it. Then we switch.” I handed a large sketch pad to Chet. “Also, I want to know why I’m partnered with you.”
And I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. I wanted to do that about as much as I wanted to see it up close again. Maybe taste it. Despite my failed plan, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what’d gone down in the file room. It had haunted my every solo session since, and my only conclusion was that someone had seriously fucked up the dynamics of sexual chemistry when they’d created me.
Chet rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and grinned. “I figured you were the lesser evil than Barrett.”
“Barrett’s not even doing the activities.” I’d spotted him earlier, but he appeared to be here in a purely supportive function. “Besides, Barrett’s all right.” A total pain in the ass, but I hadn’t forgotten how he’d taken Chet down a couple of pegs on the first day, which had upped my esteem of him.
“I don’t think I care.” Chet plopped down in the grass. “Let’s do this.”
“Fine.” I reached for the stack of cards and withdrew one before easing to the ground, my back to Chet’s per the instructions. “Why the fuck is your spine so bony?”
“Why the fuck are you such a meathead?” Chet tossed back. “C’mon, give me a clue.”
“Okay, draw a circle in the middle of the page.”
The marker whispered and squeaked over the paper. “Done. Next?”
“Bisect it with a triangle.”
“Mmmm, listen to you with that sexy geometry talk. Bisect,” he repeated, with a hard emphasis on thesect. “What’s next? Vertices? A few perpendicular lines?”
I laughed in spite of myself. “Jesus, dude.”
“Okay, done. Next.”
“You don’t have to keep saying that. I can hear the marker on the page, so I know when you’re done. Now, wait a sec…” I studied the card, trying to figure out how to best explain. “Okay, at the apex of the triangle you just drew, make two lines coming off either side, like arms trying to flap.”