“The best,” Georgie echoed, beaming at him.
Ten minutes later, the perfect tickets had been found. To get to Oslo from Guatemala, we were going to need to take a chain of flights. From Flores to Guatemala City, from Guatemala City to Mexico City, then from Mexico City on a red-eye flight to Heathrow in London, and then from there, we’d fly on to Oslo. It was going to be a long day of travel and several layovers.
“I can’t delay you much on the first two legs,” Sergio offered. “But for the flight from Mexico City to Heathrow, I can let the other teams know that the other flights are booked except for the one you are on.”
“And it’s the one that arrives the latest?” I asked. “We need to make sure that the black team is going to be on it, and they’re twelve hours behind everyone else.”
“They gave up their spots for us,” Georgie said dramatically. “Isn’t that so sweet?”
“They are like me,” Sergio declared. “They would do anything for Georgie Price and her lovely sister!”
I wasn’t so sure about that but I beamed at him. “If you can do that for us, we’d be so utterly grateful.”
“Super grateful,” Georgie agreed.
“Anything,” Sergio said in a glazed voice.
“Pictures?” Georgie asked.
“Yes!” Sergio fumbled with his phone and held it aloft. “Let us take pictures!”
A short time later, we had tickets and Sergio had taken a million pictures with us – or rather, mostly with Georgie. She’d been accommodating, vamping on his desk and posing sexily while I held her backpack and tried not to look too goofy in the pictures I was in. We even roped in a passing tourist who held the camera and took photos of Georgie, me, and Sergio together. I was pretty sure the one of us kissing his cheek was going to show up somewhere totally embarrassing online, but if it could save Swift and Plate, I was all for it.
We grabbed our tickets once the camera was put away and thanked Sergio once more before we dashed out the door to our waiting taxi. The moment we did, the Green Machine stepped out of their cab.
“Shit,” Georgie said as we shut the doors. “I hope that worked.”
“Me, too. We won’t know until all flights are booked, though.”
We got to the airport and headed to the gate for our flight to Guatemala City. Georgie and I stopped by the snack bar to grab a bite to eat, but I couldn’t take more than a bite or two. I was too nervous. We’d put all our hopes on Sergio being so starstruck by Georgie that he’d sabotage the others. Georgie picked at her food, too.
“What are the odds Sergio held strong?” Georgie asked. “And what can we do if he didn’t?”
I stared down at my airport taco. “If he didn’t, we could always try and delay the flight.”
“How?”
I held up the taco. “We vomit these on the plane the moment we get on and hope for projectile spray?”
“Gross!” She dropped her taco. “And I’m done eating. Don’t joke about that shit.”
I wasn’t joking. In all seriousness, I wondered how we could stall the plane. Vomiting was the only thing I could think of. Breaking something in the bathroom? Spilling a soda in first class? I contemplated all of the above. Even if we did, there were flights leaving Flores every two hours. That wouldn’t be enough time for Swift and Plate to catch up.
“Don’t look now,” Georgie murmured. “Your favorite guys are here.”
I looked up and swallowed a groan as the Green Machine trotted toward our table, backpacks bouncing.
“Hey guys,” Georgie said brightly. “Looks like we’re on the same flight, huh?”
Drew and Foster dropped into the seats next to us without asking, and I gritted my teeth before I could blurt out something unfriendly. “Man, we had a hell of a time at the travel agency.”
“Oh?” Georgie’s eyes went wide. “That sounds terrible. What happened?”
I pretended to pay a lot of attention to my taco suddenly, because I didn’t have the poker face that Georgie did. I was too afraid they’d see the hope in my eyes.
“Lots of full flights,” Foster said. “And the longest fucking layovers. We’re all going to be stuck together.”
“Oh no, there goes our lead,” Georgie said with a pout. Under the table, she nudged me with her sneaker. “Just when I thought we were going to get ahead.”
“Can I see your tickets?” I asked, pulling ours out. “Maybe we’re on the same flights.”
Drew pulled his out and scooted closer to me and we compared. Sure enough, we were both on the same flight to Heathrow…which didn’t take off until tomorrow night.
Everyone was going to catch up. Our plan had worked. If Sergio had been at the airport, I would have kissed him full on the mouth in happiness.
“Sucks, huh?” Drew said, looking at me.
“Sure does.”
I must have sounded too gleeful, because Georgie kicked me under the table.
Chapter Ten
“No one should underestimate those twins. They’re more than a pair of pretty faces – they’re smart and sneaky, too. That’s pretty damn sexy if you ask me.” — Swift, Team One Percent, The World Races
By the time we got to Heathrow, every team was waiting at the gate except for the Black team. There were the Doctor Moms, Team Houston, the Newlyweds (still arguing), the Green Machine, Team Daddy & Son, the Red Hat ladies, and Team Endurance Island. No sign of the one team Georgie and I were hoping to see – Team One Percent, aka Plate and Swift. I tried to keep my hopes up as I propped my backpack up in my lap and watched everyone arrive at the gate.
We’d lost our lead, but it didn’t matter. We’d gladly give up twenty minutes of a lead if it meant Swift and Plate were back in this thing. I tried to hide my worry, but Annabelle was seated next to me and she patted me on the hand. “Look at it this way, honey. It’s for the best. Falling in love on the show is hell on strategy.”
I blushed and mumbled something like, “Not in love.”
“Uh huh,” she said, her tone knowing.
Georgie flipped through an old magazine someone had left on a seat, clearly impatient. “The plane’s going to be here any minute and there’s no sign of them. I’m so pissy about this.” She leaned in toward me. “Sergio promised us, and now we’re going to be splashed all over the internet. If he didn’t save them, I’m totally booking a flight back to Guatemala to give him a piece of my mind.”
“I’ll go with you,” I told her drily. “You want something from the snack bar before we get on the plane? It’s a two hour trip to Oslo and then we’re probably going to take off running. We should get some protein in.”
“How about peanut M&Ms?” Georgie asked. “And maybe some red licorice whips if they have them.”
“I said protein, Georgie!”
“Oh, Clemmy. That’s why I asked for peanut M&Ms.” She rolled her eyes at me and flipped another page in her magazine.
With an exasperated sigh, I grabbed a few dollars from our shared stash of race money and headed for the nearest snack shop. No wonder my twin was so skinny. She existed on sugar and coffee alone.
As I passed by the ladies room in the airport, a hand grabbed me. I yelped, only to have a mouth press to mine and pulled me against the wall.
Swift. He was here.
I gasped, which he took as an invitation to deepen the kiss, and his tongue flicked inside my mouth.
And just like that, I sort of forgot everything around me. My arms went around his neck and then we were locked together, kissing wildly. He tasted good, like mint gum and that delicious, intoxicating flavor I was coming to think of as ‘Swift’s tongue’. Which was a silly flavor, but hey, I was being kissed senseless. I wasn’t good at analogies at the moment.
His hands slid to my waist and then cupped my ass, dragging me against him as he pressed me against the wall. I gave a little squeak of surprise at that.
Did I mention I was a rather inexperienced virgin? Because I was. Am. Whatever. Thing is, while
Georgie was out living the high life, I was studying and digging in the dirt. I didn’t date. No one noticed me when Georgie was around.
And to have this much intensity from a guy was wonderful…and a little scary. I broke away from his kiss, blinking. “You freaked me out when you grabbed me,” I said breathlessly.
“I didn’t want anyone else to see us,” he said, staring at my mouth. Then he leaned in and kissed me again. He caught my lower lip in his teeth and sucked on it, and my legs nearly buckled. Good thing he had me pressed against the bathroom wall.
I bit back my whimper. “What are you doing in the ladies room?”
He chuckled. “Actually, this is the men’s room.”
My eyes widened and I watched as a man pushed past us. “Eww!” I tried to slide away, only to have Swift grab me by the waist and pull me against him again.
“Shhh, Tiny, we’re trying to surprise the other teams. They think we’re done for. I want to see the looks on their faces when they realize it’s anybody’s game again.”
I slid my arms around his neck again and peeked around. “Is that why you’re hiding?”
“Yup. Plate’s at the snack bar, hiding in the back. We’ll make our grand entrance on the flight.” He leaned in and gave me another hard, quick, kiss. “And all of this is thanks to you. I don’t know what you and Georgie did to get that Sergio guy on your side, but he told me he arranged everything.”
“Blowjobs,” I said, smoothing a hand down his shirt.
“What?” His eyes went wide.
I smacked his chest. “I’m joking. He was in love with Georgie already. We just took pictures with him.”
“Oh. Jesus.” He laughed. “I had a mental image of you blowing the guy and nearly lost it.”
My brows drew together. “Because it’s a terrible idea?”
He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine. “Because I’m jealous of the thought of another guy getting to fuck your mouth.”
Well….that escalated quickly. “No blowjobs,” I breathed. “I was just joking.”
“I’m glad,” he said in a husky voice, and suddenly our conversation had lost all of its teasing quality.
Now I was thinking about Swift and me getting on my knees in front of him and…giving him the world’s worst blowjob because I’d never done it before. That got my head back on track. I patted his chest again, right over his name. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m gonna make it up to you, baby, I promise.”
“The name’s Clementine. Not baby. Not Tiny.”
His hand slid to my ass and cupped it again. “You don’t want to be my baby?” His voice was low and husky and oh-so enticing.
I bit my lip, because oh man, it was such bad strategy to want to jump his bones right about now. “I shouldn’t.”
“Maybe I’ll just call you baby in private, then,” he said, and rubbed his nose against mine. “I’m gonna make it all up to you. You saved us, and I don’t forget stuff like that.”
“Just race alongside us and help me and Georgie if we need it. That’s all I ask.” I forced myself to give a light shrug, as if I didn’t care. “Besides, Plate helped Georgie back at the first challenge, so I owed you.”
He pulled back, studying my face. “Is that why you saved us? Because you owed us?”
“Well, no,” I admitted shyly, playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “I kinda like you, too.”
Swift’s grin made me melt a little.
~~ * * * ~~
The other teams were still steaming when we got off the plane at Oslo Airport Gardermoen. Swift had been right – the looks on their faces as he and Plate boarded the final flight? They’d varied from amused (Jendan and Annabelle) to downright pissy (Team Houston and the Green Machine).
Since we had the best tickets (courtesy of our buddy Sergio), Georgie and I were at the front of the plane, which meant we got off first when we landed. As soon as we exited the terminal, there was a man with a big World Races flag standing near curb, next to the taxis. He held a disk out as Georgie and I sprinted toward him.
We took the disk quickly and paced away a few feet to read it as the other teams rushed up behind us.
Go to Rimi Makrellbekken and head to the frozen foods for a taste of Grandiosa. Norwegians consume more frozen pizza per person than any other country on earth, and you will each need to eat an entire one of your flavor of choice before receiving your next clue.
“Frozen pizza?” Georgie said, making a face. “That sounds revolting. It’s probably got squid or fish on it.”
“Don’t care, as long as we eat it fast,” I told her, then looked around. Plate and Swift grabbed their clue, and then raced toward us without even reading it. We waved them over and flagged down a pair of cabs. To the first one, we pointed at the clue. The second cab was instructed to follow…
And then we were off. The next leg of the race had begun, and we were all together in a pack.
Breathless, I squeezed Georgie tightly. “Think we can keep up with the boys this time?”
She tweaked my nose. “Piece of cake.”
Chapter Eleven
“When I told Swift I wanted a team to choke, I didn’t mean literally.” — Plate, Team One Percent, The World Races
Things were going great for about oh, fifteen minutes. Then they fell apart, as things always seem to do. We stood in the frozen food section of Rimi Makrellbekken, a Norwegian grocery store. At a table stood a woman with an apron and a chef’s hat, and a microwave. Next to her were a choice of frozen pizzas.
And in front of it stood my twin, not-so-quietly freaking out.
“Just pick one,” I murmured to Georgie for what felt like the tenth time. “Please. Before the other teams get here.” I had my pizza slice in hand and was nibbling on it. It was ‘Nacho’ flavored, which meant it had meat, cheese and corn…which was strange. Not bad, though. Georgie had to pick a different flavor¸ and she was hesitating between Kjøttdeig & Løk and something called Skinke og Salami.
“I…I don’t know,” Georgie said. She shot an unhappy look at me. “I don’t want to eat any of them.”
The woman at the microwave gestured at the pizzas laid out in front of her. “You must eat a slice of pizza before you receive your next clue.”
A camera zoomed in on Georgie, and the boom mic went over her head. That just agitated my twin even more. “I don’t know,” she cried out. Her foot stamped, and for a moment, she looked like a child about to have a tantrum. “Why are you all pressuring me?”
Behind Georgie in line, Swift shot me a worried look. They couldn’t pick out their pizzas until Georgie’s was prepped, because our instructions were to wait, one at a time, for our pizzas. There was one microwave.
“Just pick one!” I repeated.
“Quit pressuring me!” Georgie cried, and to my horror, she began to weep. “I don’t want to make the wrong decision!”
Georgie was crying…over pizza? What the hell? She’d been in such a chipper mood not five minutes ago. I shot Swift an equally mystified look and moved forward to comfort my twin.
I tried to put a hand on Georgie’s arm but she shrugged me off. “Don’t, Clemmy. Just leave me alone.”
Hurt, I shoved another bite of my pizza into my mouth and retreated. She didn’t even want my comforting? Weren’t we closer than close? Wonder twins? Why was she shoving me away? Great, now I was going to cry. I stuffed another wad of pizza into my mouth and sniffed.
“Hey,” I heard Plate say. He moved next to Georgie, who was wiping her eyes with her fingertips. “Get the salami one and I will too. We can have a contest to see who eats it faster.”
“Pff,” Georgie said, but she sounded less stressed out. “Your name is Plate. You’re gonna eat it way faster than me.”
He nodded at the lady with the microwave. “Does it say it has to be cooked?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “I, um…no?”
He turned to Georgie. “You eat yours cooked, and I don’t wanna
wait for mine to get cooked. I can eat it frozen. What about you, Swift?”
“I’m game,” Swift said, looking over at me. “Whatever Clementine’s eating, I’ll have that one.”
“So if you pick one,” Plate said to Georgie, his voice soothing, “We can all get started. And I bet yours will taste a shitload better than mine.”
Georgie gave a watery giggle. “You’re really going to eat it frozen?”
“Really,” Plate said solemnly. “I’m sure I’ve eaten worse.”
“Fine,” Georgie said, and pointed at the box. “I want skinke og salami.”
I stared at Plate in amazement and a bit of wounded jealousy. Why was my twin listening to him and shunning me? I was her dang partner.
The woman in the chef outfit microwaved the pizza and we all waited, tense, until it dinged. She placed the pizza on a new plate and handed it to Georgie.
By that time, I’d finished scarfing mine and was drinking from a bottle of water to cleanse my mouth of the meat-and-corn flavor. Plate and Swift were unwrapping their frozen ones.
“Come on, Georgie, you can do it,” I said, keeping my voice cheerful as she lifted the pizza to her mouth.
She immediately put it down again. “I can’t do this if you’re watching me, Clemmy!”
My eyes widened. Everyone stared at me. What the heck was I supposed to do? Close my eyes? Leave? We were in a race around the world and she was my friggin partner. “Um.”
“Here,” Swift said, his mouth full of frozen pizza. He grabbed me by the elbow and steered me away from Georgie, down a few aisles. “We’ll eat over here.”
Immediately one of the cameramen split to follow us.
And again, I felt hurt. I was being sent away and Plate could stay? She was my twin. I glanced over my shoulder again, and saw Georgie was taking a tentative nibble out of her food while Plate gnawed on the frozen edges of his. As we watched, another team pushed through the supermarket doors – the brown team, the Newlyweds. Drat. That meant others would be arriving soon.
Partner Games Page 7