Page 68 of A Fighting Chance

They arrived at the last turn.

Ayesha leaped.

He caught her against him.

And they never broke eye contact.

The walls could have collapsed, and neither of them would have noticed.

Several heartbeats later, he slid her down his body onto her feet, and they finished with a slow mambo-salsa combination.

Ayesha smiled up at him.

He returned the smile with a wink, leaned down, and touched a kiss to her brow, helpless to stop himself had he cared to try. Then, cradling the back of her head, he pulled her to him. She turned her head, placing her cheek against his chest.

Whether he was willing to admit it to himself, he knew she was carving a way into his heart. The problem was that she didn’t get there the way most people did. Everyone else had been issued a passport. Ayesha, however, stepped right over the border.

It didn’t matter that there were guns aimed in her direction or tanks surrounding the perimeter. It didn’t matter that, all around, there were signs that said “barbed wire” and “danger minefield” in bold red print.

She saw them.

Yet, she didn’t turn around.

She kept coming, and as she came, he watched her. He watched her cross the border, braving the spiked strips of wire and fields littered with hidden explosives. He watched her continue despite the guns and the tanks, and no matter how much he wanted her to turn back, he could hear himself whisper,“Keep coming. Please, Ayesha, keep coming.”

The music faded.

The room erupted in applause.

The walls and ceiling returned.

An imaginary crowbar pried him and Ayesha apart, the only way he would have let her go, and as he stared down at her, she stared up at him.

Ari crashed into her from behind. “Eesh!Ahh!You did so good! You were nervous, but you did so good! Me and Julien almost messed up our own routine because we werecaptivatedby you and Joel.”

Eventually, Larke, Tayler, Ari, and Mo pulled her aside. Even then, he didn’t look away. And, even as the four of them surrounded her, neither did she.

CHAPTER21

No matter where Ayesha went in the room, she felt Joel’s eyes on her.

Their six-man team lined one wall, their tuxedo jackets gone as they surveyed the wedding guests mingling, dancing, and engaging in loud conversation. Yet, it didn’t matter how many people danced in the space between them; a path remained from her to Joel and from Joel to her.

As a joke, Larke asked the DJ to play “Heathens” by Twenty-One Pilots. If any of the guests didn’t know how dangerous the six of them were, they had to have some idea, especially with Giorgio spaced in such a way that he appeared to be the fulcrum that operated either side of the lever.

Ayesha looked down at her glass. Once the wedding was over, things would go back to normal. The atmosphere, Gage and Tayler, and the dance had put her and Joel in a weird headspace. He was looking at her like he wanted to slice her dress into shreds with a combat knife, and she had to keep looking away not to put stock in it.

It didn’t matter what she and Curtis had talked about. Nothing could happen between her and Joel. Nothingwouldhappen between her and Joel.

“But Curtis, I do sometimes feel like I’m screwing him up, if I’m being honest,” Ayesha said. “A kid raising a kid, basically. Somewhat.”

“You know the guys think I’m old as hell, right?” Curtis asked. “Don’t tell them how old you are. They’ll think I’m a pervert.”

“Curtis, I’m twenty-six.”

“And I’m thirty-four. Shit, I was in the third grade when you were born. Practically a grown man.”

“Please. You probably still used those fat crayons in the third grade.”