Page 40 of Rope Me In

“Presley.” My voice is laced with concern. I know something is wrong because she doesn’t push me away this time. My heart beats loudly in my chest, and I feel like I want to stab myself in the gut for not forcing her to take a break—and for not thinking of giving her one sooner.

“Now you call me by my name?” she teases weakly.

I chuckle at her answer but then her body goes limp, shovel falling to the dirt with a thud. At the sudden shift in weight, I almost crash to my knees but manage to keep us from falling to the ground.

“Presley!” I shout, but she doesn’t move. Panic wells in my stomach, and my eyes scan our surroundings to find anyone to help, but I don’t see a soul.

Before I pocketed my phone, I saw it was nearly twelve, which means a lot of the workers probably went to eat lunch. The thought makes me remember that we haven’t eaten, either, and the last thing I saw her drink was coffee right before we came out to shovel.

Jesus, no wonder she fainted. I’m used to working on a hangover and hardly anything in my stomach. Not that it’s good for me, but Presley doesn’t have that kind of tolerance built up.

I lower us to the ground as carefully as I can, placing her head on my leg before I feel her forehead. She feels clammy, her skin wet with sweat. I take off my cap and hold it over her head to shade her eyes from the sun then use my other hand to tap her cheek a little.

“Presley,” I say. “Come on, open your eyes.”

She doesn’t move. I tap her cheek again and still nothing. Dread fills me, and my hands shake. I take a deep breath, willing the curling black tendrils of fear to leave me. Now’s not the time to let how I felt the night of my accident resurface. I need to help Presley, and I can’t do that without a level head.

I place my fingers on her neck. Her pulse is a little slow, but I think she just needs shade, food, and water. I set my hat back on my head and lean forward so my lips are against her ear, my nose tickling the shell.

“Presley, darlin’. Please open those pretty eyes.” I shake her a bit. “If you don’t get up, I’m going to have to spray you with the hose,” I tease. Just as I’m about to make good on that promise, she groans, her nose scrunching up in the way she’s done before, like a bunny.

“No hose…” She moans.

I let out a relieved chuckle, though inside, I feel like I want to hurl. The Kade before the accident would’ve never freaked out over someone passing out—he would have patiently waited until she woke up. This was an entirely new experience, one I never want to feel again.

For a fleeting moment, I think this is what Blake must have felt like the night she saved me. Helpless. Afraid. Like the world is closing in and you’ll do anything to grasp onto a lifeline. But I push that out of my mind, swallowing it down with a smile.

Presley’s lids flutter open, her heavy eyes meeting mine. They widen, then, in a flash, she’s trying to sit up. It happens so fast she almost whacks our foreheads together. “Whoa, there, easy now.” I grip her arms to steady her.

“Kade, let—” Before she can finish the sentence, she’s leaning over and dry-heaving onto the ground while trying to shove out of my grip. I cringe, holding her tight in a very awkward position as her body tries to vomit nothing, reminding me yet again I’m an asshole for not making sure she ate and drank water.

Presley groans, her shoves becoming weaker. I attempt to keep her hair back from her face, but in an unexpected burst of strength, she pushes me. Taking the hint, I let her go as she holds herself up on the ground, another heave leaving her lips.

“Let me help you,” I say.

After another heave has subsided, she takes an inhale, her face screwed up in pain. “I’m good. Please leave me alone here to die from embarrassment,” she manages weakly.

I tilt my head. “Why are you embarrassed?” I’m genuinely curious, because I’ve been in worse shape than her in front of others, said and done a lot of crazy things, like apparently calling her “my Lemon” last night. Seriously, what the fuck was that?

She lets out a long and painful groan. “Please, leave me here to die.”

I stare at the strange girl with purple hair who always surprises me with what she says and does. It only makes me want to know her more, to unravel her, to figure her out.

Fuck. Maybe Idowant her. How did that happen?

How the hell did Iletthat happen?

When she groans again, I curse under my breath. “You’re not going to die. We need to get you up and in the shade, then I’ll get you some food and water. Can I please help you?”

Presley stares at the ground where there’s a tiny bit of her bile in the dirt. I don’t miss the way her face burns at the sight of it. Her arms shake when she tries to get up, her body weak enough that she can’t do it on her own. After another long moment of her struggling, she finally looks at me and nods.

With a breath of relief I stand, staying behind her so I can pull her up under her armpits. I try to keep the movement slow so she doesn’t pass out again. When she’s on her feet, she sways a bit, so I act fast, tucking her into my side.

“Put your arm around my waist.” She grumbles at the request, and I smirk. “Has anyone ever told you you’re as stubborn as a mule?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re annoying?”

I let out a sharp laugh to cover up how grateful I am that she’s okay. “Glad to see you’re feeling better, Lemon.”

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