Page 93 of Pretend Girlfriend

“I don’t know. A medical team with a stretcher?”

Austin raised his brow at me. “A Jamaican ambulance and a team with a stretcher? You want all that fuss over a twisted ankle?”

I didn’t want all that attention. This was already too much embarrassment for me to handle.

“Thought so,” Austin replied, staring off into the distance. “It’s only a quarter mile. I can carry you.”

“What! No!” I protested. “You just want to humiliate me!”

He glanced down at me. “Suit yourself. You can crawl back. I’ll let the others know you’ll be a while.”

He started walking away.

“Wait!” I said.

Austin turned around, a half-smile on his face.

“Well? Are you going to help me, or not?”

“You’re being awfully mean to the man who has the power to save you from a long crawl back to the resort,” he pointed out.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just in a lot of pain.”

He planted his hands on his hips. “I’m gonna need to receive a verbal request. If you don’t mind.”

“This is funny to you?”

He chuckled. “A little bit, yeah.”

I gritted my teeth. “Can you please carry me back to the resort?”

“With pleasure, ma’am.”

With a hand around my back and another down by my knees, he scooped me up into his arms like I weighed nothing. I hooked my arms around his head and surrendered to my embarrassing fate.

His body was warm and smelled like banana sunscreen. The muscles in his shoulders and neck were thick and solid; I never felt like I was in danger of being dropped. After a few feet of walking, I forced myself to relax.

“This is payback for the hiking trip I sent you on, isn’t it?”

His crystal-blue eyes seemed even brighter than normal as he glanced at me. “Payback? I’m the one doing you a solid, sister.”

I was silent for a few more steps.

“Sorry for being grumpy,” I said.

“No problemo. I’m a big baby when I hurt myself.”

“You seemed like you knew what you were doing when you examined my ankle.”

“It’s kind of my job.”

“As a guitar player?”

He snorted. “That’s only a side-gig. I’m with the Chicago Fire Department.”

“You’re a firefighter?” I asked. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Why’s that?”

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