Page 64 of Prime Time Romance

He pulls a water bottle from a pack around his waist and squirts it into his open mouth. It spills down the front of his chest, and I have to restrain myself from pouncing on him and licking up the droplets.

Because dehydration.

“Ten K. Every morning. Remember?” He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Me too,” I lie. “I thought that since we’re trapped here, I should take advantage of the opportunity to work some more cardio into my life.”

Josh nods, either not picking up on the lie or too polite to call me out on it.

“I was just about to turn around.” He points at the road behind him. “Do you want to run back with me?”

Dear god, no.

“I would, but…” I clutch the side of my waist. “I got a cramp in my side. I can’t seem to get rid of it.”

He steps toward me. “Here, let me help.”

Before I can think of another excuse, his hand is sliding up my waist. His palm is warm and I swear his voice is unusually husky as he says, “Lift your right arm above your head.”

I obey. There’s no hesitation.

He grabs my upheld hand by the wrist and pulls it just hard enough that my side becomes taut, allowing him to really lean in and work his thumb in firm circles, kneading the muscles that were perfectly fine to begin with.

A picture floats into my vision.

Josh, holding both my hands above my head.

Firm but gentle as his golden body looms above me.

The euphoria returns in a rush, followed by a feeling of lightheadedness.

“That feels so good,” I moan. And I swear Josh’s hand stills for just a moment before he clears his throat.

“Breathe. Just keep breathing through it.”

I’m not sure if he’s talking to himself or me.

My knees give out from underneath me. I mentally blame my morning of unplanned exercise as I lean into him. My hand is braced on his shoulder, and my breast presses against his biceps.

“Does that feel better?” he asks.

I can’t find words, so instead, I nod. My magical state is only broken when he releases me and steps away.

“We should probably take it easy and just walk back. Is that okay with you?” He points at the road.

Again, all I manage is a nod. “You can keep running if you want. I’m fine to get back on my own.”

Josh shakes his head. “Naw, it’s fine. I’ll probably have time for another one later.”

I applaud his stamina.

We start to walk toward town.

Our hands accidentally bump every few steps, and I realize I’m not walking in a straight line and try to correct myself. But a few more steps later, I find my way back to him again.

I blame Sloan’s fashionable but not-so-functional sneakers.

Josh doesn’t say anything about it at first. But after a third hand bump, he looks over.