Holding my startled gaze, he says softly, “Sweet little lamb. I’ll give you a five-second head start.” “No.” “Five.” I say sternly, “Don’t you dare start that counting thing.” “Four.” “I’m not kidding. I won’t run. I’ll stab you with my fork.” “Three.” My voice comes out breathless from nerves. “Callum, stop it.” His smile could send every demon screaming in terror straight from the depths of hell. “Two.” My mouth goes dry, my pulse goes haywire, and the hair on my arms stands on end. “One.” The air turns to fire. For a split second, neither of us moves.
