CHAPTER EIGHT

A little while later, when my body starts to cool down, I realize my feet are getting wet. Blaine never bothered to close the car door, and now our tangled legs and feet are dangling out in the rain. But I have a hard time rousing myself - partially due to the fact that I was fucked within an inch of my life and partially because his weight and warmth are soothing somehow. I just want to lie here with Blaines weight on me and his lips against my neck. In here, its easy to ignore the problems of the outside world.

Its Blaine who decides to make the first move to leave the backseat of my car. "Well, that was something," he says, voice still ragged from the thorough exercise we both took part in. His eyes roam over my face, as if taking in the moment. "I didnt hurt you, did I?" His own lips are swollen from my teeth, and Im filled with a wicked sense satisfaction at the lingering evidence of our wild coupling. I can only imagine how his back must look. I dont have long nails, but given the force of his thrusts and my reckless abandon in the sack, I bet his back looks like a scratching post.

"Only if you count the good kind of pain," I whisper.

The corner of his mouth curls up, and he sweeps a strand of sweat-soaked hair away from my forehead before leaning down and brushing his lips against mine. Now that were no longer in the throes of passion, I notice the faint metallic taste of blood in his kiss. He notices it, too, for he pulls away and touches his bottom lip gingerly.

"A bit of a biter, arent we?" he says. My cheeks go hot, but this time I dont turn away from his gaze. Im not ashamed of myself for getting a little rough; Im not a blushing virgin even though Im slightly surprising myself at how sexually open Ive been with him. And he certainly doesnt seem to mind my forwardness. He reaches out and rubs his thumb along my neck. "Ready to go again?"

"What?" My body is already responding to the suggestion, but Im not sure it can handle another round like that without exploding into a million pieces. Ive already had two orgasms tonight and though the prospect of a third sounds amazing, I dont know if I can

My thoughts must register on my face because Blaine lets out a laugh. "Im joking," he says, leaning down and brushing his nose against mine. "But perhaps we can continue this later. Maybe somewhere with a little more room."

Im still too drunk on our passion to do anything but smile and nod.

We climb awkwardly out of the car. The cold rain is a shock against my heated skin, but for a moment I close my eyes and lean my head back, just letting it wash over me. It makes me feel like a normal person again, not just some sex-high wild man.

After a moment I open my eyes and look back at Blaine, whos reaching back into the car for our clothes. Even in the gray, overcast light, the red marks stand out starkly against his bare back. I gasp.

"What is it?" he says.

"Your back," I say. "I didnt mean to—I mean, you said I didnt hurt you."

He reaches around, and his fingers brush against the raised gouges across his spine, slashes made by my nails. He laughs.

"Wild little minx," he says, stepping forward and catching me up in his arms. He leans down and captures my mouth with his. I melt against him, relishing the sensation of his own fingers digging into the flesh along my hips. His lips are fierce, hungry, and he gives my bottom one a nip before releasing me once more.

"We should probably get inside," he says. "You have goosebumps." I almost tell him the truth—that those goosebumps are from his touch, not the cold—but the sound of my ringtone cuts me off.

"Here." Blaine reaches into the bag he brought of my things and grabs the phone. His eyes flick down at the screen as he hands it to me. "Ah. Apparently youre not supposed to answer."

I hear the question in his voice, even as my own hand freezes on the cell. I dont even have to look down at the screen. Theres only one person in my phone labeled "Do Not Answer." I dont know why Adams calling again, but Im really not in the mood to deal with him right now. I told him to call the Center. If he has any questions or updates, he can talk to Will.

I reach into the bag for my clothes and find his friends pants next on top of my muddy, wrinkled things. I glance up again to find Blaine, meaning to ask him about it, but hes staring at me with an intense expression. "Its nothing," I say, trying to dispel his concern. "No one important."

"Is this guy bothering you or something?" Blaine says.

I shrug. "Its not really any of your business."

"I would think its at least partially my business, considering what just happened between us."

The last thing I want to do is talk to Blaine about Adam. "I dont delude myself into thinking what just happened between us was anything more than sex. Im not obligated to tell you about any other men in my life, just as I dont expect you to tell me about your other men." I do have some pride, after all.

"This isnt about our romantic history," Blaine objects. "If someones listed as Dipshit Do Not Answer on your phone, I dont think Im overreaching to think his call might be unwelcome."

"I can handle it, I promise," I say. "Im a big boy."

"How often does he call you?"

"I can handle it," I snap. I yank the pants over my ass and zip the fly harshly, ensuring that my overly sensitive dick isnt in the way of the rage I feel with this whole conversation. I cant believe Im having this argument with him. Why does he care who calls me? For now, at least, he seems content to drop the issue. Neither of us speak as we pull on the rest of our clothes. The fuzzy, post-coital glow is gone, and now Im only cold, wet, and annoyed. I reach to find the shirt but cant get it untangled from the mess of clothes in the bag.

"Here," Blaine says. Before I can object, he steps behind me and pulls the shirt out of the bag gently. His hand lingers at the base of my neck after he helps me into the shirt. "I wasnt trying to push you," he says, so softly that I can barely hear him over the rain. "I was just worried, thats all."

I turn and glance up at him over my shoulder. "I dont need you to protect me."

"We all need people to protect us sometimes."

"And sometimes," I say, stepping out of his grip, "we need the freedom to fight our own battles."

He doesnt say anything as I bend and grab the rest of my bag off the ground. I wonder if he thinks Im going to climb back in the car. To be honest, Im tempted. I dont want to admit defeat, even now. But this time the sensible side of me wins out. "Lets go," I say, moving back toward the gate. "Unless you want to stay out here in this weather all day."

Its not until were inside, dripping in the foyer, that I raise the issue of the bet. "Looks like youll be fulfilling your fathers pledge to the Center after all," I say.

He freezes, frowns. "What?"

"Our bet," I say, surprised I have to remind him. "You lost."

He shakes his head. "Im afraid you lost, Mr. Hummel."

"You were the one who dove into the car and grabbed me," I say, reaching up to rub the back of my head. "I still have the bump from where I hit the window. You made the first move."

"That wasnt our bet." He steps toward me, dripping water all over his fancy silk carpet. "Our bet was who would be the first one to give into their baser instincts."

"Same thing."

"Not at all." Hes only a few steps from me now. "You," he says softly, his breath caressing my cheek, "You were touching yourself."

"That wasnt part of our bet."

"It fulfills the conditions. You admitted that you were thinking of me."

I jerk back from him. "Thats not what we meant by the bet, and you know it."

"Perhaps thats not what you understood it to mean, but its what the terms dictate."

"No," I say, shaking my head. "Youre not going to trick me into letting you win. You grabbed me. You kissed me. You told me you couldnt control yourself."

"If were arguing that detail," he says, closing the distance between us again, "then you were the one who gave me complete permission to lose control."

"This is ridiculous. You just dont want to admit youve lost."

"Should we consult a third party? I can call my lawyer if you want. He has experience dealing in matters like this."

I roll my eyes. This is getting absurd. "You owe the Center two years of the pledge money your father promised," I say.

"You wont get it." Im going to punch him. Im actually going to punch him this time. Hell probably sue me or something, but itll be worth it. What else do I have to lose at this point? Blaine must read the violence on my face because he takes a step back. "Im sorry, I truly am," he says. "I told you that I always keep my word, but Im not in a position to throw away huge chunks of money just because someone misunderstood something I said."

From where Im standing, hes most definitely in a position where he can—and does—throw huge chunks of money at any number of things, but I can see this line of argument is going nowhere. "Fine," I say. "Then why dont we make another bet? Double or nothing."

His eyes flash. Hes intrigued. "What did you have in mind?" he says. Honestly, I dont know. But Im not about to let this opportunity slip through my fingers. I glance around, desperate for ideas, but I cant even begin to think of the options in a house like this. Should I challenge him to another splash fight on the roof? Suggest a round of pool or darts in the game room?

Something he mentioned in passing during our tour pops into my mind. "You said you used to play hide and seek with your friends?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting we bet on a game of hide and seek?" In reality I have no idea what Im suggesting. But Blaine seems excited by the idea, so I decide to push it a little further.

"Perhaps," I say, making a show of glancing around. "Its fitting for a stormy day like today."

"Am I to be the one to hide or seek in this scenario of yours?" he says, drawing near me again. I dont know what to say. He has the advantage either way. On the one hand, if he hid, then I— What the hell am I thinking? How old am I—six?

"Forget it," I say, shaking my head. "Its a stupid idea."

He moves toward me, and suddenly the walls at my back. Blaine leans over me. "Its not stupid at all. In fact, I like the idea very, very much."

"Thats just because you know all the good hiding spots," I say lightly, trying to make a joke of it. I dont trust the way my heart is beating. I dont trust myself when hes so close.

He chuckles and props a hand on the wall beside my head, closing me in. "We can bend the rules easily enough," he says. "Make it a little more even for you."

I look up at him through my lashes. "And how, exactly, do you suggest we do that?"

His eyes darken as they hold my own. "Ill give you a massive head start," he says with a wicked smile.

"Thats not an advantage. That should be a standard rule in a house this size. It probably takes half an hour to walk from one side to the other." I frown up at him. "And whos to say that Ill be the one hiding?"

"As you pointed out, I know all the good spots already," he says. "Besides, I rather like the idea of chasing you down. Its very... primal, isnt it?" The way he says that sends a shiver down my spine.

"You still have the advantage," I say. He considers this for a moment, and I cant help but notice the way his pulse beats in his throat. Hes thrilled by our little game, and the knowledge of this sends an echoing response through my own body.

"How about this," he says. "Ill give you a ten minute head start. After that, well set a definitive time limit—say, an hour. You said yourself that it will probably take thirty minutes to walk from one side of this place to the other. I may have a more thorough knowledge of this house than you do, but I certainly cant search every room in an hour. That should make things even." Its a start, at least.

"Who will keep the time?" I ask.

"Well set the alarms on our phones." He whips his phone out of his pocket and pulls up the clock function. I fish my own cell out of my bag of muddy clothes and follow his lead. But when I look at him again, hes frowning.

"I didnt realize what time it was," he says. He glances up. "Im sorry, Kurt, but I have to make a few calls."

"Oh. Okay." I tell myself the little dip in my stomach isnt disappointment.

He raises his hand to my cheek. "After that," he says, brushing his thumb across my lips, "then you bet your sweet little ass that I mean to hunt you down and claim my prize."

"Your prize?"

"We did say double or nothing," he says, a dark gleam in his eye. "I think its only fair with stakes this high that I get something for catching you."

Im almost afraid to ask the question. "What do you want?"

He leans toward me, and for a breathless moment I think hes going to kiss me, but he stops just shy of my lips. "If I win," he murmurs, "then youre mine. All night."

My heart stutters in my chest. "Yours?"

"At my mercy," he breathes. He runs a single finger down my neck.

"Should I be afraid?" I ask him.

An eager smile stretches across his lips. "Very." Before I can respond, he steps away from me. "Meet me back here in two hours," he says. "Ill have Martin send some lunch up to you." I can only nod as he walks away.

At the designated time, I return to the foyer. I wish I could say I spent our hour apart doing something productive, but all I managed to do was change into dry clothes—jeans and a tank top, which seem a little more practical for hide and seek than a tight pair of white pants—and fret about our impending game.

Even now, Im not sure I should have agreed to this. Theres still time to back out, to run back to my room and lock the door and end this madness before it begins. But refusing to play means giving up on the Center—or so I tell myself. I stand against the wall as I wait.

Blaine is late. I wonder a little about the business that took him away so urgently, but maybe its better that I dont know. I suspect anything I learn about the way he handles his affairs will only make me angry, and right now I want to forget how much I hate him.

I glance down at my phone. Its ten minutes past the time we were supposed to meet. What if he changed his mind? What if he decided this was a stupid idea after all?

The message icon is flashing in the corner of my phones screen. Adam called again about an hour ago, and this time he left a voicemail. I considered calling him and reminding him to consult Will with any questions or concerns, but Im afraid that even that much of a response will only encourage him. I knew I was opening a big fat can of worms when I dialed his number, but I wont fall into the trap of allowing open communication between us again.

"Is something wrong?"

I nearly drop my phone at the sound of Blaines voice. Hes managed to sneak up on me while Im standing here fretting about Adam. "Im fine," I say, smiling up at him. No need to bother him over my crazy ex. "But youre late."

"A terrible crime." He takes my hand and brings it up to his lips. "Tell me, how do you plan on punishing me?"

I disentangle myself before he gets me too worked up. I have a game to win. "We can worry about punishment later," I say. "Right now, we have more important business."

His eyes darken. "Indeed."

I look down at my phone. "We should go ahead and set our alarms for an hour from now."

He pulls out his own cell and follows suit. "Set another for ten minutes from now," he says. "So youll know when your head start is up."

"Just to be clear," I say, determined to avoid any miscommunication this time around, "the game is over when the final alarm goes off, or when you catch me. Whichever happens first."

He nods. "Correct."

"I think we should define what constitutes a capture," I say. "Its not enough to spot me across a room or a hallway right before the alarm goes off."

He smiles. "You mean that Im required to have you in my possession." The way he says that final word sends a tiny thrill through me.

"You at least have to touch me," I say.

"Ill touch you any way you like," he says, a gleam of amusement in his eye. "But yes, I think its a fair rule."

I nod. Thats settled, at least. "Anything else we should go over?" I ask. "Anywhere in the house thats off limits?"

"I know better than to answer that," he says, "or youll head straight there." He glances down at his phone, then back at me. "And Im willing to discuss whatever else you want, but I think its only fair to point out that your ten minutes are ticking away very quickly."

Shit.

I twist away from him, but not before catching the devilish anticipation that sweeps across his face. The asshole thinks hes won already. I run to the nearest door. I have no idea where it leads, but there isnt time to stop and consider. This is my final shot to win back our money. I need to win.

"Dont worry," he calls after me. "Youll enjoy the night I have planned for you." Thats exactly what Im afraid of. I have seven minutes left and absolutely no plan.

This house is huge, and Blaines tour did little more than make it clear that it would take me a year to learn my way around this place. I have no idea where Im going, let alone where I might find a suitable place to hide. All the same, something surges through me as I run down the hallway. In spite of everything—and even though its completely crazy—I think Im as excited as Blaine by our little game. More than excited —enthralled. Maybe I should let him catch me. The promise of his words still echoes through my mind. If I wanted, I could be at his mercy all night. The prospect tempts me more than I want to admit.

But reality hits me quick and hard: I cant allow myself to be caught up in this. Theres too much at stake. The Centers entire future falls on the outcome of this "little" game, and Im not going to let my own weakness destroy the thing Will worked so hard to build. Blaine is sexy, yes, and our encounter in the car was probably the best sex Ive had in my life, but this is only lust. Lust and self-indulgence.

I run up a flight of stairs. My only strategy right now is to get as far away from Blaine and the foyer as possible. The further I run, the longer it will take him to get to me, and in this game every minute counts. Maybe its better if I dont hide at all, but continually change my location—after all, a moving target is much harder to hit. My cell buzzes in my pocket. Is my head start up already?

I turn down another hallway and run all the way to the end. Blaine will be leaving the foyer now. At the very least I need to find somewhere out of the main thoroughfare where I might bide my time. It wont do me any good to go noisily sprinting down the corridors. Without even thinking, I find myself heading in the relatively familiar direction of my bedroom.

Its not until Im outside the door, however, that the thought hits me: I should sneak into the secret passage. Its perfect—I can wait behind the walls and possibly even spy on Blaines progress in the meantime. I dash over to the fireplace and grab the poker. The panel swings open, and I quickly duck into the passage, pulling the door closed behind me. I yank my phone from my pocket and use the dim glow from the screen to light my way as I move through the dark.

Im supposed to be concentrating on my goal, thinking of the Center and the money Ill win back for us, but my thoughts keep drifting back to the last time I was here. Just the memory of my naughty spying session sends blood rushing to my face. Im glad theres no one here to see me. I recognize the way the passage curves just before Blaines room, and I stop and lean against the wall. This is as good a place as any to hole up for a while.

I pull my phone from my pocket and glance at the screen. Its been six minutes since the first alarm went off. Fifty-four minutes to go.

I sit down and lean my head back against the wall. The floor is cold and hard, but all in all I can think of a dozen less comfortable places to spend the next hour. At least Im not twisted and cramped in a cabinet somewhere or something.

I can do this. I can win back the money for the Center. In the long run, it doesnt matter that I had sex with Blaine—I can make up for the craziness of the last two days in the next hour. I close my eyes and take a deep breath and wait.

Seventeen minutes later, I hear footsteps. My head jerks up, but even then I have trouble placing their location. Are they coming from above me? On the other side of this wall? The sound bounces around the passage, and only one thing is clear: wherever they are, theyre getting closer. I draw my knees up to my chest and wait, rigid. My mind is racing. Should I stay here like this? Or should I try to spot him through the spy holes along the walls?

If I move, theres a chance hell hear me, but it would give me an advantage to see and know exactly where he is. In the end, he makes my decision for me. Just when Im about to make a move for the spy holes, my ears finally pick up on where he is, and its no wonder it took me so long to place him.

Hes in the passageway with me. Shit! How did he find me so fast? Did he slip a tracking device on me or something? But no, I realize too late that he probably had the same idea I did. He wanted the secret vantage points these passageways offered. Im an idiot for underestimating him in his own house.

Hes too close now. Theres no time to run. If he hears my footsteps hell chase after me, and he proved back on the first night when he tackled me outside that he can outrun me. No, my only chance is to remain hidden and hope he walks right by. I move slowly to my feet. Farther down the passage I see the soft blue light of his phone bouncing off the darkness. I sidle along the wall, feeling behind me for any nook or cranny where I might duck out of sight.

After a few desperate moments I find a little alcove, and I manage to squeeze inside just as Blaine comes around the curve in the passage. I hold my breath as he strides toward me. He holds his cell phone out to light the way for his feet, and the light moves over the spot where I was sitting just a moment ago. At least I made the right decision in moving.

He stops next to the spy holes that look onto his bedroom. In the dim light, I can just make out his face. The way the shadows play across his jaw and cheekbones only enhance the intensity radiating from his eyes. Theres no doubt he means to find me—and have his way with me. A shiver races down my back.

I watch him lean forward and peer through the slits in the wall. Arrogant asshole. Does he really think Id be dumb enough to hide in his bedroom? I want to laugh, and I bite down on my lip to stifle the urge. He turns back around, and I press myself as much against the wall as I can. For a moment Im sure hes seen me—but then the blue light passes over my hiding spot and moves further down the passage, and Blaines footsteps recede as he continues on his way.

As soon as the light disappears, I release the breath Ive been holding. That was close. Too close.

My heart is thumping madly in my ears. I curl my hands into fists and press them against my thighs. I should be nervous after coming so close to losing, but my body has a different reaction. Once more, I have to fight down the urge to laugh—Blaine doesnt even have to touch me or look at me and he still manages to turn me on. But I cant risk another close encounter like that. Especially if Im getting aroused by the thought of him catching me.

If hes using the system of passageways, then I need to get out of here. I dont know where they lead or how far they extend, but theres no guarantee he wont come back this way. Better to move away from him. I start down the hallway in the opposite direction of Blaine, back toward my room. I try to move as quietly and as swiftly as possible. If I could hear his footsteps long before he reached me, then my movements will echo as well.

Theres only one problem: I cant remember where my room is. The last time I used the passage, I left the door open behind me. This time, I shut the door, and now I dont know how to find it again. I stumble along, peering through every set of spy holes I manage to spot in the darkness, but I dont know the house well enough to get my bearings from the rooms I see on the other side. At regular intervals I spot the palely painted door handles, but Im not reckless enough to open any of them without knowing where they lead—or where Blaine is.

I keep walking. Right now my priority is to get as far away from Blaine as possible, but I keep my head up and my eyes on the walls, looking for the next door or set of spy holes. Im so focused on finding my escape route that I nearly trip down the flight of stairs that suddenly appears in front of me. I gasp and reach out for the wall, and I manage to catch myself on a railing before I fall and break my neck.

My phone clatters to the ground and tumbles down several steps. The sound echoes down the length of the passageway. I stand frozen for a long, breathless minute. Was Blaine still in the passage? Did he hear that? I strain my ears, but I dont hear any approaching footsteps. Still, I have a bad feeling in my gut.

I need to get out of here—and fast. I hurry down the next few steps and crouch, fumbling around in the darkness for my phone. As soon as I find it, I take off down the stairs, moving as quickly as I can without risking another fall. The stairs go on much longer than I expect, far more than a flight, but at this point theres nowhere else to go but down. How deep does this place go? I wonder.

Its not until the steps finally stop—and I notice the sudden coolness—that I remember Blaines earlier comments about the dungeons. I assumed at the time he was joking, but now that Im here, Im not so sure. The glow from my cell phone reveals the edges of a door ahead of me. I take a deep breath and push it open. The hallway on the other side is as dark as the passageway—far darker than most of the rooms and corridors upstairs, where the windows let in light even on rainy days like today. I edge my way along the closest wall, a hand out for support, and my fingers brush against stone.

Looks like he definitely wasnt kidding about that dungeon bit. I dont know what Ill find down here, but theres no way Im giving up the chance to explore a little. What do eccentric billionaires keep in their sub-basements? Vaults of jewels? Stashes of the latest designer drugs? Dead bodies of people who defied them? My hand brushes against a door, and I fumble for the handle in the dark.

Its locked. About ten steps later, I find another door, but this ones locked, too. And then another, and another—this entire basement is stone walls and locked doors.

Im screwed if Blaine catches me down here. Theres nowhere to hide.

My body is tense, my skin alive with nerves. The thought that Blaine is somewhere above me, hunting me down, incites a feral excitement in me. If he catches me down here, what will he do? My heart almost leaps out of my chest when I find the next door unlocked. I slowly push it open then raise my cell phone to try and light the darkness beyond.

Theres nothing here. No storage boxes, no cases of jewels, no dead bodies. I wander around the room, inspecting every corner, but Im in an empty stone cube. A small one, at that. It really does feel like a dungeon cell—all thats missing are a few chains on the walls. I turn my cell phones screen off and sit down in one of the corners, trying to catch my breath.

Im not sure why this place flusters me so much, but Im already too far gone to fight the fluttering in my stomach. Theres no point in denying that a part of me wants him to catch me, but I wont willingly lose this contest. After the time is up, however, then all bets are off. I glance down at the time on my phone. Twenty-eight minutes left. Halfway done. I can do this. The minutes tick by slowly, all the more because I cant see anything around me. I can only focus on the excitement running beneath my skin.

When I close my eyes, I can only imagine the things Blaine has planned for me upon my capture. I should feel bad for indulging my imagination, but I dont. Im not ashamed of the fantasies playing in my mind, nor am I ashamed of the anticipation coursing through me. I feel alive and wild and free. I feel like this place, this mansion, is entirely removed from my old reality. My normal life and all its stress and responsibilities are far away. In here I can be reckless. In here I can be shameless and unrestrained. In here I can explore every dark, wicked corner of myself.

When I finally grow impatient and look down at my phone again, there are only seven minutes left. I draw my knees up to my chest and rock gently. I dont want to admit it, but Im a little disappointed Blaine hasnt come for me yet. After our close encounter in the passageway upstairs, I thought Id spend the entire game on my toes, just steps ahead of him, breathlessly out of reach. Just when Im about to resign myself to the letdown, I hear a sound out in the hallway. I hold my breath. For a moment, I hear nothing but silence.

Im beginning to think I might have imagined the noise when suddenly it comes again. There, down the hall—is that the sound of a door closing? Has Blaine stumbled down here at last? For a solid minute I dont hear anything more, and then theres a footstep, light but distinct. Yes, theres no denying it—someones walking down the hallway. Toward the room where I wait.

I press myself further against the wall and flip my cell phone open for one last look. Three minutes until the alarm goes off. Three minutes, and Ill have the money the Center needs to survive. I hear the jiggle of a door handle. Not mine, no—three doors down, maybe four. This level is so quiet that I can practically hear my heart pumping.

Outside my cell, Blaine moves a few more steps and tries the next door. I shouldnt have chosen the first room I found unlocked, I realize suddenly. Hell move on from the locked doors quickly, but hell stop and search this room, and theres nowhere in here I can hide. Im tempted to pull out my phone and check the time again, but its too risky. Instead I remain curled up on the floor, afraid to move, and I wait. Blaine tries the handle of the room next to mine. One jiggle, two.

And then his footsteps approach my door. Im lightheaded. There cant be more than two minutes left. If I can escape him for just two minutes... The handle of my cell turns, and the door opens with a click that seems to echo throughout the room.

I stay perfectly still. A single breath or the tiniest shift of my foot might alert him to my presence. He steps into the room. He moves slowly, as if hes unaware that his time is about to expire. Or maybe he does know—maybe he already knows Im in here, and its all part of his game.

Every nerve on my body is afire. My muscles tighten, urging me to jump, move, run—but I cant. I wont. I ignore the knots twisting in my belly, the desire growing between my legs, and I wait, frozen, for the end. Blaines footsteps move forward, toward the far wall. He pauses only briefly when he reaches the corner adjacent to mine.

Hes no more than twelve feet away from me now. How much time is left? It cant be more than a minute. His steps turn, and now hes moving along the wall. I can hear his fingers graze against the stone. His steps are slow, deliberate. Hes only ten feet away from me now.

I should run. Or better yet, crawl. Maybe I can stay beneath his arms. If he doesnt touch me, then he doesnt win. Even if my shoe squeaks against the stone, I might be able to evade his hands in the darkness.

Its risky, and Im too close to winning. There cant be more than thirty seconds left. But Blaine cant be more than five or six steps away. I lift myself off the ground, only just enough to slide myself a couple feet to the left. Blaine doesnt break his step. He doesnt appear to notice my presence at all.

I shift another couple of feet. Why havent our phone alarms gone off yet? How much time is left? Blaine has reached the corner where I was hiding just a moment ago. If he could see through the darkness, he could grab me easily. Are there ten seconds left? Twenty?

Im so close. Just a little longer...

My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. Relief sweeps over me, but dread follows just a quickly. Its not my alarm going off—its my normal ring tone.

Someones calling me.

Blaine reacts before I have time to recover from the shock. He dives toward me, and his hands grab me in the dark. "Caught you," he says, his fingers digging into my skin. Then, only then, do our respective alarms go off in unison. Its not right. I was so close—so close.

To lose like this, with only second left—to lose because my phone went off... no.

No. I wont go down like this.