Page 29 of Down to One
“Oh yes. And it was so refreshing on those hot days in theludus.” His face quirks into the briefest smile, as if the idea of his masters giving their fighting flesh a cool swim was the most ludicrous thing he ever heard.
“Right. I can picture you now.Nakedof course,” I throw that in to make sure the network plays some of these soundbites. The more prurient, the better. “Running in the hot sun, back and forth, lap after lap. Sparkling drops of water sliding down that fantastic blue brow of yours as you ran your heart out to become the very best in your field.”
“Right,” he says, obviously not up to the task of joining me in my over-the-top ploy for audience attention.
“Show them, Titan. Take that shirt off and run for us. Run to that boulder by the side of the road and back. Better yet. Take off all your clothes.” I glance at his numbers on the tote board. Twelve credits. Twelve fucking credits? The network is cheating both of us so badly. I know just how to fix it.
“Titan, stop!” I say as he’s in the middle of removing his shirt. His six-pack is showing, and I feel a swift pang of lust, wishing I hadn’t stopped him from taking it all the way off.
“Are the folks at home watching?” I say, looking directly into the camera. “Do you know this male, this handsome, hardworking, hard-lovingmale, only has twelve credits? Twelve measly credits? He’s not going to take his shirt off and run to the boulder until his tote gets to a thousand.”
Every housewife at home is going to call foul if his tote doesn’t go up pretty dang fast. While I watch as the numbers spin so swiftly they’re a blur, I wonder what I’m doing. I’m helping him earn credits. Credits that will earn him weapons. Weapons that he’ll use to kill me. I’m an idiot.
When he reaches a thousand, I say, “There you go, Titan. Let’s see if your total can hit two thousand before you reach that boulder.” And what do you know, it does.
I have his total to three thousand before he returns from his jog.
“I know every female out there is wondering what it would feel like to have their hands on your sweaty, blue body. Sorry, ladies, but Icantell you what hetasteslike.” I stride over to him, stick my tongue out nice and long and make sure to point it, then lick a lazy swath from his rib cage up as far as I can reach.
I turn back to the camera, shrug, and say, “Salty,” as I wing up one eyebrow in a lewd porn star move.
Our gazes both dart to the tote board. I’m at 4323, he’s at 5482. I don’t stare at it long. I can’t. Titan is a magnet. My gaze is drawn to him. Just as his is inexorably pulled toward me.
I can’t fathom how this is even happening. How can you fall in love in circumstances like this? In theory, it wouldn’t even be possible.
Am I? Falling in love? That’s preposterous. But I’m definitely falling in something.
“You’re brilliant,” he says when we’re back on the road. “Or was it your plan just to tire me out by making me jog up and down that dusty road in the heat?”
“Actually, none of the above. I orchestrated that whole thing just to lick you.”
He laughs. It’s hearty and mellow and genuine. This. Why this brings tears to my eyes, I haven’t a clue. Tender feelings for him bombard me so heavily I reach out and grip his forearm for support.
I like him. And he likes me. It’s not an act. And one or both of us is going to be dead. Soon.
