Page 72 of Not That Into You

Cameron

“Monica?” My heart races as I push a wet strand of hair off her face with a shaking hand. “Please say something. Are you okay? Speak to me, baby.”

I’m kneeling beside her on the beach—I don’t even remember how we got here—inwardly chanting, Please be okay. Please be okay. You have to be okay.

I stroke her face.

“Ow.”

I let out a shaky breath. She’s conscious. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

She squints her eyes open. “My head hurts.”

“Yeah. I’m sure. You hit your head on your board.”

She groans. “I figured.”

She coughs, and I stroke her arm, fighting the urge to pull her into my arms and hold her tight. “Sounds like you swallowed some water. How’re you feeling?”

“Like I almost drowned.”

My stomach drops, but I force a smile. “Wasn’t even close. You were only under for a second.”

Of course, it felt like a year. When she hit the water, I knew she was hurt, and all I could think was that I had to get to her. Everything else is hazy. I don’t even remember swimming. One minute my world stopped spinning, and the next, I was dragging her onto the beach.

I cup the side of her face and scan her features, trying to assess how bad the injury is. “I think you should go to the hospital.”

She groans. “No.”

“You might have a concussion.”

“Doubt it.”

“You blacked out.”

“I didn’t.”

“Monica.”

“Cameron.”

I press my lips together before parting her hair, examining the spot where the board hit her head.

She flinches. “Ow. Careful.”

“Sorry. I’m just trying to see if you’re bleeding.”

“Cameron, I’m fine. I just got a bump on my head.”

“It’s more than a bump.” Although I don’t see any blood, thank goodness. “A doctor should look at it.”

“Not necessary.”

“How’s your vision? Are you seeing double? Am I blurry?”

“Yes.”

“Shit. I told you. It’s probably a concussion.”

---