Page 128 of The Incredible Ordinary

“Not getting enough attention?” he asks.

“I want the spotlight.”

His lips twitch, and he tilts his head, taking in my sprawled body. There’s the slightest hitch of his breath.

“I’m not sure what I have to give is enough for you. You’re used to adoring crowds.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. I, for one, believe in you. Think of it as a challenge.”

He smirks. “Oh, I bet that one would work on you like a literal fucking charm, wouldn’t it?”

“What?” I ask with a laugh.

“Challenges. Dares. Any type of provocation like that.”

“What makes you so sure of that?”

This time he laughs out loud. “Do try and tell me that a person who used to be a top athlete doesn’t have a competitive streak. Come on, I dare you.”

I’m not like that. Am I? No. Although, a claim like that deserves a response.

“There’s nothing wrong with a bit of competitive drive,” I say.

“Of course not,” he drawls. “Nothing at all. Won’t make you an easy target whatsoever.”

My eyes narrow. “Come again?”

He throws me a smirk, just shy of laughing.

“I bet I can balance on one leg longer than you,” he says.

Okay, this is just ridiculous.

“That won’t work.”

He smiles, all serene. “I’m really good, too. I do yoga.”

“Do you?” I ask, distracted and intrigued.

He hums in response, still eyeing me.

“It helps with balance. And flexibility,” he adds offhandedly.

My blood turns hot in a snap.

Does an erection, by chance, also help with balance?

It sounds like something scientific minds would want to know. I can help with research.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “It’ll only take about ten seconds.”

“Are you seriously suggesting I can’t keep my balance longer than ten seconds?”

“Can you?” he asks with a shrug.

What do you know? Turns out Iaman easy target.

I sigh and push myself off the bed.