Partner Games
Page 46
“All right.” I looked over at Georgie and Plate. Plate’s big face looked unhappy as he showed Georgie his arm. She gave him a frustrated look and immediately grabbed a handful of his shirt, dragging him toward the medic tent.
“Last place,” Swift said in a low, dull voice. “I can’t believe we’re in last.”
“But still in it,” I said brightly.
“Last place won’t win the money.” He sounded defeated.
“Why don’t you come sit down in the tent with me for a bit?” I told him, patting his back. “Come on. We’ll get some water in you, clean you off, and you can tell me all about it.”
He let me lead him away into the cluster of tents. In the distance, I could hear one of the Doctor Moms start to cry as they were told they were gone. Sucked, but someone had to go. I zippered open my tent and gestured for Swift to get inside. “I’ll get some bottled water.”
He looked down at his clothing, as if just now realizing how filthy he was. “You sure you want me in there? I look like I rolled around in the dunes.” He flicked a hand at his t-shirt and a cloud of dirt flew into the air.
“I’m sure,” I told him. It wasn’t as if we’d be able to relax in there in this heat anyhow. “Leave the zipper open though, because it’s hot as heck out here.”
He nodded and unclipped his pack from his back, then threw it onto the ground. That one motion told me just how defeated he was. He never slung his stuff anywhere. He was always very careful. I frowned to myself and headed over to the coolers of water bottles. I grabbed several and a towel that was lying over a nearby chair, and retreated back toward the tent I was going to share with Georgie.
Swift sat at the entrance, his big black-booted feet sticking out. The defeated look was still on his dirty face, along with an epic shiner. He was taking the whole ‘fifth’ place thing pretty hard. Maybe it was hard after being in first the entire race.
“Scoot over,” I told him, and squeezed into the tent next to him, sitting on my pack. I opened a water bottle and wet one corner of a towel, then offered it to him.
Instead of taking the towel, he grabbed my hand, which was covered with the smeared henna tattoo. “What happened here?”
“The girls had to get mehndi tattoos and Georgie and I got impatient. We were supposed to be careful with our hands and cover it for an hour, but we sweated it all off and now it just looks like a really bad rash.”
He chuckled and pulled my hand in toward his mouth.
I quickly jerked it away. “Smells like camel. Don’t kiss it.”
Swift looked up at me and gave me a half-grin. “My entire body smells like camel and you still hugged me.”
My sweaty cheeks felt even warmer. “So I did.”
“I’ll just kiss your mouth instead of your hand. Deal?” Swift tugged on the hem of my red shirt, pulling me forward, and I went, because he was impossible to resist.
The kiss was brief – his mouth was chapped from the heat. I immediately handed him a water bottle. “Drink this.”
Swift sighed and took the bottle from me, but he drained the entire thing quickly. I handed him the damp towel and he wiped at his face, but all he managed to do was smear it around.
Stifling my giggle, I took it from him. “Let me. You don’t have a mirror and you’re making it worse.”
“Sponge bath from a hot chick? Maybe there’s something to coming in last place after all,” he joked.
I wet a new corner of the towel and wiped away at the dirty streaks on his face and neck. “What happened?”
“This?” He plucked at his dirty shirt, sending another wave of sand into the air and in the tent. “We asked for the fastest camels, which was dumb. The fastest camels were actually the biggest jerks. We got there first, then had to turn around after they threw both of us. I think Plate messed up his wrist.” He frowned, glancing out the tent.
“Georgie has him. I think she took him to the medic,” I soothed before he could get up and find his partner. I handed him another bottle of water and went to work on cleaning his sandy forearms. “And I meant, why were you guys so far behind us? What happened there?”
He rubbed his forehead, clearly frustrated. “Our plane that was supposed to get there in advance? That was so awesome? One of the toilets got clogged so we couldn’t take off. They tried to fix it for three hours and then switched us to another plane. It was ridiculous.”
“Well, it could have been worse. Someone could have stolen your money.”
“Yeah, right. I’d punch the daylights out of anyone that tried it.” Swift’s eyes narrowed.
I swallowed the ‘no really, someone stole our money’ that was burning in my throat. If he punched someone on the Green Team, they’d really be out of the race. I’d just tell him about our financial mishap later, when he wasn’t so down. “Look on the bright side. At least you’re still in the race.”
He snorted and flopped back on his backpack, using it as a pillow. “Not for long.”
This wasn’t like him, to be so despairing. “You guys have been in first place for the entire race so far. You’ll come back.”
He rubbed his forehead again, and this time his hands remained covering his face. “Tiny, what am I gonna do? Dad’s counting on me. I took a big risk to come on this show and try to win. What if I can’t pull through?” He kept his face covered, and for a horrified moment, I worried that he was about to break down and cry.
I glanced out the front of the tent and saw a cameraman hovering, recording everything. No doubt if I looked outside, someone would be holding a boom mic over the tent. As discreetly as possible, I reached over and zipped half of the tent, hiding our faces from the camera’s lens. “You don’t need to win as much as the rest of us just need to lose, remember?”
“Shit,” he said, and dropped his hands. He looked over at me, then took my hand in his and squeezed it. “I know you want to win, too. I didn’t mean—“
“It’s okay. Really.” I patted his hand. “You’re running this race for three people. I get it.”
“I just…don’t know what I’m going to do if I fail him.” His gaze was full of despair.
I didn’t know what to say to that. I’ll try to help you win? Because him winning meant me losing…and letting down my twin. And just when Georgie and I had worked through our problems, I didn’t want to drive a wedge between us.
I squeezed his hand. “You’ll figure something out.”
If anything, Swift being in last place had made me realize that this race was short and only getting shorter by the minute. I needed to take advantage of every minute we had.
And the next time we had some privacy and a hotel room? I was so having sex with him.
Chapter Thirty
“I can’t lose. I just can’t. If I do…I might as well never go home again. I won’t be able to look my Dad in the eye and tell him I failed him.” – Swift, Team One Percent, The World Races
Even at ten at night, the heat in Morocco was oppressive, to the point that I was almost hoping that this rest period would go by quickly.
“Last place,” Swift said in a low, dull voice. “I can’t believe we’re in last.”
“But still in it,” I said brightly.
“Last place won’t win the money.” He sounded defeated.
“Why don’t you come sit down in the tent with me for a bit?” I told him, patting his back. “Come on. We’ll get some water in you, clean you off, and you can tell me all about it.”
He let me lead him away into the cluster of tents. In the distance, I could hear one of the Doctor Moms start to cry as they were told they were gone. Sucked, but someone had to go. I zippered open my tent and gestured for Swift to get inside. “I’ll get some bottled water.”
He looked down at his clothing, as if just now realizing how filthy he was. “You sure you want me in there? I look like I rolled around in the dunes.” He flicked a hand at his t-shirt and a cloud of dirt flew into the air.
“I’m sure,” I told him. It wasn’t as if we’d be able to relax in there in this heat anyhow. “Leave the zipper open though, because it’s hot as heck out here.”
He nodded and unclipped his pack from his back, then threw it onto the ground. That one motion told me just how defeated he was. He never slung his stuff anywhere. He was always very careful. I frowned to myself and headed over to the coolers of water bottles. I grabbed several and a towel that was lying over a nearby chair, and retreated back toward the tent I was going to share with Georgie.
Swift sat at the entrance, his big black-booted feet sticking out. The defeated look was still on his dirty face, along with an epic shiner. He was taking the whole ‘fifth’ place thing pretty hard. Maybe it was hard after being in first the entire race.
“Scoot over,” I told him, and squeezed into the tent next to him, sitting on my pack. I opened a water bottle and wet one corner of a towel, then offered it to him.
Instead of taking the towel, he grabbed my hand, which was covered with the smeared henna tattoo. “What happened here?”
“The girls had to get mehndi tattoos and Georgie and I got impatient. We were supposed to be careful with our hands and cover it for an hour, but we sweated it all off and now it just looks like a really bad rash.”
He chuckled and pulled my hand in toward his mouth.
I quickly jerked it away. “Smells like camel. Don’t kiss it.”
Swift looked up at me and gave me a half-grin. “My entire body smells like camel and you still hugged me.”
My sweaty cheeks felt even warmer. “So I did.”
“I’ll just kiss your mouth instead of your hand. Deal?” Swift tugged on the hem of my red shirt, pulling me forward, and I went, because he was impossible to resist.
The kiss was brief – his mouth was chapped from the heat. I immediately handed him a water bottle. “Drink this.”
Swift sighed and took the bottle from me, but he drained the entire thing quickly. I handed him the damp towel and he wiped at his face, but all he managed to do was smear it around.
Stifling my giggle, I took it from him. “Let me. You don’t have a mirror and you’re making it worse.”
“Sponge bath from a hot chick? Maybe there’s something to coming in last place after all,” he joked.
I wet a new corner of the towel and wiped away at the dirty streaks on his face and neck. “What happened?”
“This?” He plucked at his dirty shirt, sending another wave of sand into the air and in the tent. “We asked for the fastest camels, which was dumb. The fastest camels were actually the biggest jerks. We got there first, then had to turn around after they threw both of us. I think Plate messed up his wrist.” He frowned, glancing out the tent.
“Georgie has him. I think she took him to the medic,” I soothed before he could get up and find his partner. I handed him another bottle of water and went to work on cleaning his sandy forearms. “And I meant, why were you guys so far behind us? What happened there?”
He rubbed his forehead, clearly frustrated. “Our plane that was supposed to get there in advance? That was so awesome? One of the toilets got clogged so we couldn’t take off. They tried to fix it for three hours and then switched us to another plane. It was ridiculous.”
“Well, it could have been worse. Someone could have stolen your money.”
“Yeah, right. I’d punch the daylights out of anyone that tried it.” Swift’s eyes narrowed.
I swallowed the ‘no really, someone stole our money’ that was burning in my throat. If he punched someone on the Green Team, they’d really be out of the race. I’d just tell him about our financial mishap later, when he wasn’t so down. “Look on the bright side. At least you’re still in the race.”
He snorted and flopped back on his backpack, using it as a pillow. “Not for long.”
This wasn’t like him, to be so despairing. “You guys have been in first place for the entire race so far. You’ll come back.”
He rubbed his forehead again, and this time his hands remained covering his face. “Tiny, what am I gonna do? Dad’s counting on me. I took a big risk to come on this show and try to win. What if I can’t pull through?” He kept his face covered, and for a horrified moment, I worried that he was about to break down and cry.
I glanced out the front of the tent and saw a cameraman hovering, recording everything. No doubt if I looked outside, someone would be holding a boom mic over the tent. As discreetly as possible, I reached over and zipped half of the tent, hiding our faces from the camera’s lens. “You don’t need to win as much as the rest of us just need to lose, remember?”
“Shit,” he said, and dropped his hands. He looked over at me, then took my hand in his and squeezed it. “I know you want to win, too. I didn’t mean—“
“It’s okay. Really.” I patted his hand. “You’re running this race for three people. I get it.”
“I just…don’t know what I’m going to do if I fail him.” His gaze was full of despair.
I didn’t know what to say to that. I’ll try to help you win? Because him winning meant me losing…and letting down my twin. And just when Georgie and I had worked through our problems, I didn’t want to drive a wedge between us.
I squeezed his hand. “You’ll figure something out.”
If anything, Swift being in last place had made me realize that this race was short and only getting shorter by the minute. I needed to take advantage of every minute we had.
And the next time we had some privacy and a hotel room? I was so having sex with him.
Chapter Thirty
“I can’t lose. I just can’t. If I do…I might as well never go home again. I won’t be able to look my Dad in the eye and tell him I failed him.” – Swift, Team One Percent, The World Races
Even at ten at night, the heat in Morocco was oppressive, to the point that I was almost hoping that this rest period would go by quickly.
