“Only time my knees are weak is when I’m around you.” He dragged his finger down the line of her jaw. “Same for that breathless feeling.” Then he curled his hand around the back of her neck and swept his thumb across the pulse pounding in her throat. “And, kitten, because of you, my stamina is way better than it’s ever been.”

Note to self: You suck at trash-talking.

But Knox? Holy fuck, the man could make her wet with just words.

She had to refocus. “So it’ll be fun to see if your body can back up your ego.”

Knox laughed. “Lead the way.”

The obstacle course had two different levels. Easy and moderate. It also had a different scoring system for men and women, since the course was geared toward men.

The instructor gave a basic rundown and indicated he’d be scoring them.

Shiori was a little disappointed there wasn’t the crack of a starter’s pistol to get her going.

The first obstacle was a series of tires—putting a foot through each hole. Easy enough.

The next challenge was a warped balance beam four feet off the ground, which bowed in spots and wobbled as she crossed it. Again, the beam seemed easy, but she knew men had a harder time with it.

In the third run, she had to dodge life-sized chunks of swinging foam that resembled boulders. They swung in random patterns. Shiori headed straight through the middle, leaning back to avoid one and ducking down to avoid another. The last boulder dropped straight down and narrowly missed her leg. But then she was free.

Obstacle number four was the rope climb over an eight-foot wall.

Don’t overthink it.

She rushed toward it, grabbing on to the rope and planting her feet halfway up the wall. She had upper-body strength, but nothing like Knox’s. Gritting her teeth, she inched up the wall at a snail’s pace.

The rope is your tool.

She remembered seeing one of those Japanese game shows on TV, with wacky physical challenges, where a woman used the wall as a springboard and bounced her way to the top. Shiori tried that. Three bounces as she moved her hands up the rope. Three more bounces and she was over the wall. It took her only two bounces to scale down the other side of the wall.

She bent at the waist and caught her breath as she noticed the next obstacle. Steel monkey bars, then a set of rings, then another set of monkey bars.

One right after another.

Yeah. This course was totally geared toward men.

But she wasn’t giving up.

She jumped up, grabbed the first bar with both hands and started to swing. Her arms weren’t long enough that she could skip more than one steel bar.

By the time she reached the rings, her arms ached. But again, she built up a swinging momentum and was able to skip every other ring. The true test now would be making it to the end of the monkey bars.

Her hands were sweaty, and her arms shook. She threw herself onto the first bar. That’s when she knew she couldn’t swing anymore. Muscle fatigue and damp hands were a bad combination.

Come on. Back to basics. How did you do this when you were a kid and had zero upper-body strength?

One bar at a time.

She had to reach out with one hand, as if she were doing a pull-up, then bring her other hand beside it. Eight bars. The process was slow, but she made it.

The last course loomed ahead. She’d have to crawl through a long steel tube and then leap across a water trap into a sandbox.

Excitement hit her like a shot of adrenaline.

She was small enough that she wouldn’t have to crawl through the tube on her belly. If she hunched her shoulders and crouched down, she could duckwalk through it. That could shave seconds off her time.

And it worked amazingly well. High on her cleverness, she sprinted toward the water trap and launched herself over it, landing on her hands and knees in the sandbox.

Done. She’d done it.

Then Knox was there, lifting her to her feet, swinging her around in a circle, peppering her face with kisses, telling her how proud he was of her and that she deserved to win after her awesome display of athletic ingenuity.

She loved how Knox got so swept up in everything. He never held anything back.

After parking her on a bench with a bottle of water, he crouched in front of her. “You sure you’re all right? No shame in barfing. Most people do.”

“I’m all right. Can you give me a few minutes to catch my breath before you run the course? Because I want to watch.”

“Of course.”

He kept staring at her. Finally she said, “I swear I’m not feeling sick.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you.”