Page 102 of How to Lose at Love

I yawn.

Pull over and cut the engine, letting the keys dangle from the ignition while Ryann gathers her jacket, hat, and fanny pack.

“Ugh,” she moans. “I don’t want to get out in this.”

I shift in my seat. “I’m lucky I didn’t have to play in this.” We cut it close, though, missing the downpour by just a half hour. Sucks being on the field when the weather takes a turn, slipping and sliding on the AstroTurf they installed several years back.

Grabbing my keys, I yank them out and go to open my door. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

“Dallas, you really don’t have t—”

“Race you!” I shove my door open and hop down into the rain, cutting across the front lawn of her complex before she’s even gotten her door open.

“Wait!” she shouts with a laugh. “Knock it off, this isn’t a compet—”

Her words are cut off again when she falls, legs flying out from under her, ass over tea kettle on the slippery, wet grass.

“Shit!” She laughs again. “Ow!”

I stop, turning.

Walk over and stand over her sprawled-out body, rain pelting her cute face, her coat, purse, and hat littering the area around her.

“Don’t just stand there, asshole. Help me up!” Her hand shoots up.

“I was going to!”

“Oh!” She hobbles once she’s standing. “Oh my God, my tailbone—it feels like I broke it.”

“You didn’t break it,” I inform her without evaluating her. “Maybe you bruised it.”

Bending, I snap up the shit from the ground, then I squat down, scooping her up as if she were as light as a feather, walking us toward her building.

“Aren’t you glad I walked you to your door so you don’t have to walk?”

She rolls her eyes, hair soaking wet. “I fell because you were racing, you shithead.”

Facts.

But still.

“But now that you’re injured, it’s helpful having me here.”

Ryann shakes her head. “5-9-4-2.”

“Eh?”

“The code for the door—it’s 5-9-4-2.”

Oh.

Duh.

I punch it in, able to support her at the same time. Pull the door open and whisk her through like a goddamn rock star action hero, then kick it closed behind me. BAM.

Another eye roll. “Cool it, Captain America. You’re being so loud. Some of us have a ton of neighbors.”

I dial it down a notch.

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