Page 3 of Attraction & Repulsion

Carson shot him a glare from beneath the towel. Partly because of his smart-ass remark, partly because she realized she needed his assistance. She envisioned herself crawling up the bleachers, searching for Raegan. How insane she would look to everyone.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest at her expression. “Come on. I’ll take you.” Before she could protest, he bent down, scooped her up, and began walking with her cradled in his arms. The sharp movement pulled at her scabbed ribs, making her gasp.

“How’s the pain?”

“Bearable,” she said through gritted teeth. The rocking was making her regret the concession stand nachos she had earlier, now churning in her stomach.I swear if I throw up one more time today . . .“Just feel like I’m going to puke.”

“Damn. I might have given you a concussion.”

“That would be my luck,” she grumbled. It didn’t help that the game continued to boom around her, making her brain pulse against her skull. Though she was surprised how the pain didn’t bring the attraction she was looking for earlier.

“Who’s your friend?” he asked.

“Huh?” She tilted her head back to look up at him.

“You said you needed to tell your friend you’re leaving. Who’s your friend?” he repeated while keeping pace, his voice never faltering from the exertion of carrying her and his duffle bag.

“Oh, uh, her name is Raegan. She’s in the bleachers.”

“Raegan Olson? Hunter’s wife?”

“Yeah . . . how did you—” Then it clicked. His uniform matched the Super Soakers, which could only make him one of the firefighters. He must work with Hunter.

The firefighter stopped walking, and to Carson’s surprise, they were in the parking lot standing next to a large, red truck. Keeping her eyes closed for most of the trip, she had figured he was taking her back to the stands. Without any effort, he opened the door, barely shifting her weight.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Like I said, taking you to urgent care,” he retorted, lifting her into the passenger seat with ease.

“Like I said, I’m fine. I need to find Raegan. She’s probably wondering where the heck I am.” Carson grabbed the handle and tried to slide off the seat, but he blocked her.

“Relax. I’ll call Hunter, and he’ll let her know,” he said.

“Can’t you or one of your buddies just glue it here instead?”

“Maybe if we were in the middle of the jungle with no access to a medicalfacility.”

Carson bit the inside of her cheek, her tongue sliding over the years’ worth of bite marks. Urgent care technically wasn’t a hospital, so she didn’t have to worry about breaking her vow. Annoyingly, her head continued to throb like a heartbeat where the door had smashed into her forehead. She was officially over an already shitty day. And whether she liked it or not, if a firefighter thought she needed to see a doctor, there was a very good chance she needed to see a doctor.

The firefighter, who was still standing in her way, watched her carefully as she mulled over her situation. Concern was still evident in his face. Every few seconds his eyes flitted to the rag pressed to her forehead. First responder mode, she thought, itching to address her injury.

Her hesitation gave him enough assurance to push her legs back to face the dashboard. This time, she didn’t resist.

Letting her head rest against the seat, she closed her eyes. The seatbelt zipped as he pulled it from the slot and clicked it into the lock. The pressure of the strap against her lap and chest felt nice, but a frown pulled her lips down when the door slammed. Why did everything have to be so loud?

The truck’s cab smelled old and dusty, like driving down a dirt road toward a grandparent’s house. Or at least that’s how Carson imagined it, having never met hers. The saddle-blanket seats’ coarse fibers poked at her exposed thighs as she adjusted to get comfortable.

When the driver’s door opened, her eyelids lifted. The stranger was sliding into the truck, a phone with a STLHD Gear sticker on its case held to his ear.

“Hey, Hunter, it’s Jax. I know I was up next, but I left my duffle bag in the locker room and ran to grab it. Something happened, and now I’m taking your friend”—he leaned over to her—“what’s your name?”

“Carson.”

“I’m taking Carson to urgent care.” Jax waited for Hunter’s response. “I slammed a door into her head. She’s got a nice laceration and may even have a concussion, but I haven’t checked.” Another pause. “She says she’s fine, but I’m still taking her. Anyway, let Raegan know that’s where she went. Text me if she wants to meet us at the urgent care.”

Chapter three

The pounding in Carson’s skull never stopped, making the short fifteen-minute drive to the walk-in clinic feel like two hours. Jax parked the truck and came around to her side. She already had the seatbelt undone when he opened the door.

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