Risk

Chapter Nine

Regan's POV:

"Alright, do you want to go first?" Harry asks as we sit down across from each other on the mats.

I shrug. "Sure."

As I'm about to lie down, Harry stops me, a smirk creeping over his face. Probably doesn't mean a good thing.

"I have an idea," he announces. "What if we make this interesting? Let's see who can do the most sit-ups in one minute."

Oh, God.

"Umm..." I ponder his suggestion. I don't want to seem weak- or, any more weak than I've already proven myself to be. "Okay. You're on."

I lay back and bend my knees in the sit-up position, feeling Harry scrutinizing my every move. Weathered hands grip my ankles and I startle at the warmth spreading under my skin.

"Alright, I'll time," Harry says. "Go."

I quickly sit up and lie back down, continuing the motion repeatedly while Harry's mouth silently moves as he counts.

I keep track of how many I'm doing. At about the twentieth mark, I'm already tired. Damn it, I really need to start doing these regularly.

I slow down a bit, and every time I sit up and meet Harry's face he smiles, revealing dimples indented in his cheeks. For some reason, his smile seems to make me smile, so we're both giggling like elementary kids crushing.

What the hell?

At last, Harry says loudly, "60! How many did you do?"

Panting and huffing for breath, I push myself upwards and reply, "36." More than I thought I could do, actually, but I know Harry could easily beat that number.

Harry nods. "Good job."

I realize his hands are still on my legs and I think he does too because he hastily removes them. The heat disappears from my body in a rush.

Harry is simply looking at me, just staring into my eyes. I wait for him to say something, but my thoughts get distracted by the hypnotizing emerald irises. When I look into them now, all I see is Harry, not... him.

I remember the darkness in Harry's gaze when he beat Ethan to the ground, and now they're much lighter, but still so intense, goosebumps form on my arms.

I swallow and say, "Har-?"

Before I can finish, Harry lurches forward.

Harry's POV:

I throw myself towards her and bring my hands to her sides, wiggling my fingers.

"Ahh!" Regan squeals, writhing under my tickling motions. Bursting laughs escape from her mouth and she tries to bat my hands away.

I grin widely, seeing her laughing so hard beneath me.

I'm not sure why I'm tickling her; all I know is, I got caught up in the melancholy look to her dark eyes and I had the sudden urge to make the sadness disappear.

"Stop, stop it Harry!" Regan cries, her eyes squeezed shut as she giggles.

When I see she can barely breathe, I draw back, chuckling at her mussed-up ponytail and tears streaming down her cheeks from laughing. The people nearby send us annoyed looks, but I couldn't care less. I just made Regan laugh- not just smile, but really laugh.

"So..." Regan tries to catch her breath. "What was that for?"

I shrug. "You looked too serious."