Page 61 of Reset

“What should I say? That for a second date this experience really sucks?” It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Ryan laughed anyway.

“When we get out of here, I’ll take you on a real second date.” He paused. “Or in my case, a first date.”

“I wasn’t fishing for a date. I was being funny. Or trying to.” She sighed. “Plus, honestly, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Are you kidding? I kiss like a god. That’s totally second date motivation right there.”

He brushed against her before sitting close. Unlike Sarah’s clothes, which were just damp now, Ryan’s jeans were dripping again.

“It’s not about your kissing,” she said, carrying on the world’s most ludicrous conversation. “It’s about your life. You can do the whole life-on-the-line thing without even missing a beat, but I’d drive myself to an early grave worrying about you. I’m pathetic like that.”

“Is this about the coma thing? Because I hear the chances of that happening twice are pretty low.”

“Oh, how you amuse yourself at my expense. No, it isn’t about the coma. You have bullet wounds on your chest, a scar on your shoulder, another on your back. Who knows what else I haven’t noticed? You live life on the edge. I worry if it’s too dangerous to take up knitting.”

Suddenly, light flooded the cavern, making her blink fast as her eyes adjusted and the room came into focus. Then, there he was, sitting facing her, looking like a hunky Poseidon who’d just emerged from the deep after frolicking with mermaids. She glanced down at herself. It was as she’d suspected. She looked like a damp pile of seaweed.

“iPad still works, then,” Ryan said cheerily. “Haven’t tried my phone yet, but if we use it on the lowest light setting it should still have some life left in it. Here, drink this and then you can brush your teeth.” He handed her the smaller bottle of water, along with the travel toothbrush and toothpaste set.

There were scratches on his arms, probably from swimming against the rocks. But other than that, he looked good. A little too good. A little too hard to resist—if she let her guard down, which she couldn’t. Not without risking the security she’d worked hard to acquire.

Taking the items he handed to her, she looked around the cavern and stopped at the sight of a gaudily painted tag on the wall near the mouth of a tunnel. Wide-eyed, she turned back to Ryan.

“We really might be able to get out of here,” she said, feeling a little shocked.

“Ye of little faith,” he muttered.

It didn’t take long for them to freshen up. Ryan was back to wearing his shirt, which was soaked, but he insisted it would dry faster on his body than off. Sarah wasn’t particularly worried about how wet the shirt was; she was more upset that his abs were under it.

Perv.

His phone was still working, so they were using up its battery before they switched to the iPad. Mainly because the phone was easier to carry. The clip Sarah used to tie her hair in a bun was long gone, so she brushed it out and hoped it wouldn’t look like a bird’s nest when it dried. And yes, it was stupid and shallow to worry about the state of her hair considering all the other things they had to worry about. Still, Ryan was a freaking cover model, even after everything they’d been through. The least she could hope was that she didn’t resemble a haystack.

“I think I should take my shoes off until they dry,” she told him as they walked down yet another tunnel. If she never saw a tunnel in her life again, it would be too soon. “They’re soaked and rubbing against my toes.”

“You’ll regret it if you do,” he said from behind her. “One sharp rock underfoot, and you’ll have to limp out of here.”

Sarah sighed, wishing every little thing wasn’t so blooming hard. Each step she took jolted her chest, pulling at abused muscles and sending spikes of pain throughout her body. Her throat felt slightly better now that she’d had something to drink, and she was very grateful that her teeth were clean and minty fresh. But overall, she was desperate for a shower. The slimy water from the pond had coated her skin, and she couldn’t even bear thinking about what might have been in it. If she had a fear of bacteria, she would have lost it right about now.

Thankfully, Sarah wasn’t a delicate flower. Heck, she’d grown up in one of the UK’s toughest areas and could negotiate her way through any slum. She still wanted to be clean though. No, what she really wanted was to get out of there, but she would settle for clean if she could get it—for now, anyway.

On top of everything else she had to contend with, they now had a musical accompaniment to their trek through the mine—Ryan’s stomach had become very vocal about being neglected. With each step he took, it rumbled. Each one louder than the last. It would have been funny, if she’d had the energy to laugh.

“Ryan?” she asked, mainly to break the monotony of miles of beige stone walls. “What happens if you don’t get fed regularly? I mean, apart from the sound effects, do you turn rabid? Should I fear for life and limb? Will my leg start to look tasty at some point soon?”

“Hilarious. Nothing happens. Although, the longest I’ve gone is two days, and by the end of it I was ready to gnaw on my shirt. Not sure what would have happened if it’d stretched out beyond that. Don’t think you can die from eating a cotton shirt, can you?”

It was slightly worrying that he sounded like he might be seriously considering it as a future option.

“I don’t think you should eat anything you can’t digest,” she felt the need to say.

“Some women eat coal when they’re pregnant, and they don’t suffer.”

“If we find some coal, you have my permission to nibble it. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve eaten, just because you were hungry?”

“Elle’s cooking? She went through an experimental phase. Thankfully it didn’t last long.”

“I’m serious, I want a serious answer.”