CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jamar’s stomach clenched. His pulse beat erratically with a manic tum thump, tum thump. His fingers fumbled with an antique-brass cylinder as he spun the dial, struggling to decode the cipher.

“Hurry,” Taylor hissed. “We have less than three minutes.”

“I’m trying!” He licked at the sweat that formed on his upper lip and attempted a different combination.

“Do you want me to try?”

“I’ve got it,” he said. Shit. Maybe he had it. He was so nervous you’d think someone’s life really did depend on him solving this stupid riddle.

When Taylor had suggested an escape room for their first official “date,” he hadn’t considered he might develop permanent anxiety from it.

Prolonged side effects notwithstanding, tonight’s date was necessary. Chatter surrounding their new romance had increased throughout the day, even popping up on a few gossip sites. Screenshots of the video of him and Taylor at the grocery store had started circulating on Twitter and Instagram, accompanied by mounds of speculation about their relationship.

Unlike Alec Mooney, the general public had not automatically jumped to the conclusion that he’d hired Taylor as his personal trainer. The consensus seemed to be that Taylor had sought him out instead of the other way around.

His new girlfriend hadn’t appreciated that. She’d gone on a tirade after today’s workout, raging about how women were always labeled gold diggers, and why couldn’t he be the one who’d pursued her because she was “such a fucking catch.”

Jamar had to agree with her on that one.

After her rant, she’d settled down long enough to recognize how this could work in their favor. The more off base the public rumors, the more likely they would succeed in keeping his attempt to return to the League a secret. Taylor had suggested they become even more visible as a couple as a way to feed the gossip beast, thus their jaunt to downtown Austin tonight.

Jamar should have known she wouldn’t have settled for a simple dinner and movie for their first date. Instead, she had him sweating like a cat burglar about to get caught while they tried to save some fictional prisoner.

The clock on the wall began to tick louder. That wasn’t just his imagination; the volume on the damn thing really had increased as the seconds ticked down. He secured the last letter on the dial and felt the pin holding the lock in place give way.

“Thank God,” Taylor said. She snatched the cylinder from his hands and slid the rolled-up paper out of it. She unfurled it, then quickly handed it back to him. “Here! I’m too nervous to read it.”

Jamar sighed as he took the scroll from her hand.

“Read it!” she urged.