Page 51 of The Kiss Countdown

“No. I would have been there, holding you up to make sure you didn’t fall.”

“Vincent, seriously, you can’t control everything. It was an accident. Use that big brain to go over the word’s definition. I’m not placing any blame on you, and I won’t allow you to accept it all either.”

His mouth tightens like he wants to argue more, but he remains quiet and starts walking again. I let my hand linger for a moment before pulling away and do my best to relax into his hold. We’re almost to the guesthouse now, approaching the wall of trees that marks their property.

Vincent still looks tense, and I think of the conversation with his mom that led us to this path. “Will you tell me about your brother?” I ask quietly.

He continues walking, and I think he won’t answer until he lets out a deep breath. “He was my best friend. We did almost everything together and used to spend so much time out here exploring. These woods aren’t the same without him.” He clears his throat and swallows, and I know that’s all I’ll get out of him.

I lay my head on his chest. Almost losing my mom just about did me in, and I still haven’t quite recovered. I can’t imagine the pain Vincent has gone through, and I instantly regret bringing it up. “I’m sorry you lost him.”

When we make it inside the guesthouse, Vincent carefully sets me on the bed. He’s in efficient mode as he unties my shoe and slowly pulls it off, then grabs the pillow he slept on to prop my foot up.

He pulls off my sock and frowns once he realizes my leggings actually close over my toes like stockings. “I can’t examine your ankle with these in the way. Do you want me to cut them?”

I gasp and clutch my chest. Cut the leggings Gina gave me two Christmases ago? I shake my head adamantly. “Never.”

Vincent tries staring me down before shaking his head and throwing his hands up. “We’ll have to take them off, then.”

“Fine,” I throw back.

This is fine. I’m injured; he needs to assess the damage. He’s seen plenty of legs, and it’s not like I’ve ever had an issue showing mine in shorts or swimsuits.

There is absolutely no reason my heart should be racing this fast.

I bite my lip as I grab my leggings, but the small movement of lifting my hips causes more pain.

“I’ll help you,” Vincent says.

He reaches for the waistband of my pants and tugs them over my hips, exposing my flesh-colored panties. I love them because I don’t have to worry about my underwear showing through clothes, but upon first glance, it does look like I’m bare. Evidently it does not escape Vincent’s notice. I swear he stops breathing for a moment before he meets my gaze, and electricity arcs between us.

His throat bobs in a swallow, and he bends his head back down.

He continues his task, and I track his movements as the warmth from his knuckles sears my bare skin like hot coals.

Once the leggings are fully off, Vincent races to grab a spare sheet from the dresser and practically throws it at me. I’d be offended if it weren’t for the bulge in his pants that makes it evident how affected he is right now.

He sits at the foot of the bed. “Brace yourself.” Taking my ankle into his hands, he rotates it, and all the heat I felt moments earlier is nothing but a memory.

I cover my mouth to stifle a scream and a whole slew of cuss words.

Vincent places my foot back on the pillow and actually smiles. “Good news. It’s not broken.”

“How can you tell?” I pant.

“Search and Rescue personnel, remember? And I’m our crew’s medical officer.”

“I think Gina was right and you are a male Barbie.” I think the pain is making me delirious.

“Wouldn’t that be Ken?”

“Are you a beach bum?”

Vincent shakes his head. “Like I was saying. It’s not broken, but you have a pretty good sprain. We’ll have you take it easy the next few days, and you’ll be back on your feet before you know it.”

My ankle is swollen to twice its usual size, but everything is straight and intact, so I decide to take Vincent at his word. “Okay. Sounds good.”

I watch him go to the bathroom and come back with a small towel.

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