One Good Thing by Lily Maxton Page B

Natalie’s eyes on me as she’d sauntered off, like she was hoping I’d taken notice of their interaction. She was quickly becoming a thorn in my side.
    All the numbers on the computer screen had swirled away from comprehension, but I’d tried to muster up an expression of fascination, as though nothing short of a 5.0 earthquake would tear me away from my work.
    Now I frowned at Evan as people walked past our motionless forms, parting like water around an immovable rock. “I told you I just broke up with my boyfriend.”
    “And?”
    My hand clutched the strap of my purse. “And, I don’t want to date you. And/or have sex with you.”
    “No worries,” he said. “I have something in mind that’s a lot of fun and completely nonsexual.”
    “What?”
    “That would ruin the surprise. I’m trying to entice you.”
    “I’m not enticed,” I responded.
    “Not even a little bit?”
    “No,” I shook my head to emphasize the point.
    “Ok,” he said. “I guess I’ll have to go by myself. I was just thinking you could use a little fun.”
    He walked backward facing me for a few steps before he turned.
    “What do you mean I could use a little fun?” I asked, and he halted. “I have plenty of fun.”
    He spun around. “When was the last time you did something just for the hell of it?”
    I shoved my hands in my coat pockets. My eyebrows dove as I thought. And thought some more. And more …
    And came up blank.
    Hell’s bells, he was right. Failing my postcollege job search and postcollege relationship had pretty much sucked the amusement right out of my life.
    “If you haven’t thought of something by now, it’s been too long.”
    “So you think you can fix that?” I asked.
    “Definitely.”
    “Without sex?” I prodded skeptically.
    The corner of his mouth twitched. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Dani. You’re such a horndog.”
    I bit my lip to rein in the smile threatening to inch across my face. “All right. I’m in.”
    “We’ll swing by your apartment. You’ll need to change.”
    Change? My eyes widened and my stomach clenched—images of all sorts of unpleasant, dangerous activities filled my mind—rock climbing, sky diving, bungee jumping. The possibilities, and the potential injuries, were endless.
    “What exactly is your definition of fun?” I asked, trotting to keep up with him.
    “You’ll see.” The grin he shot me didn’t make me feel any better.
    *
    Less than an hour later I had a helmet on my head, safety goggles over my eyes, and at Evan’s suggestion, I’d dressed in gray and dark green so I would blend into the landscape. I couldn’t believe I’d let him talk me into this.
    “Are you sure it’s safe? I don’t trust any activity where I have to sign a waiver.”
    “They’re just covering their asses; I think it’s pretty rare for someone to get injured.”
    I peered at him … I could barely see his face through all the headgear. “What does ‘rare’ mean? Are there ever fatalities?” I heard my voice rising.
    He placed his hands on my shoulders, kneading them with his fingers until I relaxed slightly. “You worry a lot, don’t you?”
    “All the time,” I admitted.
    His hands on me felt so good I actually swayed toward him. I imagined a full-body massage, stretched out on soft blankets, oil glistening on my back, Evan’s fingertips … I blinked and shook my head and pushed away from him. Now was not the time for fantasizing.
    “Okay, my goal is a worry-free night. You’re going to be fine. Do you trust me?”
    I hesitated. Then I nodded.
    “Good. You look sexy with that paintball gun by the way.”
    “What?” I asked on a startled laugh.
    “Hot. Like Lara Croft.”
    “You think a fictional character is hot?”
    But I was distracted by the other team coming out from the main building. Six young guys with tattoos and bulging muscles. They looked mean. Like the kind of guys you’d cross the street to avoid walking past.
    We’d been paired with a