Page 78 of Perfect Mess

Jack studied my Frankenstein foot a moment longer. “I don’t think it’s broken. But you shouldn’t put any weight on it.”

Then Jack took a deep breath. His face got serious. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Jack put on the expression I imagined he would use when he had to deliver a traumatic diagnosis, like ‘I’m sorry, you’re having triplets’ or ‘the tests came back positive for herpes.’

“What is it?” I asked.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you finish the race.”

“What? Oh, no!” On the outside, I was a woman who was having triplets and had herpes. On the inside, I was a woman who had just won a lifetime subscription to the ice cream of the month club.

Jack stood up and extended his hands. “Here.” I grabbed onto him and he pulled me to my feet.

Once I was stable, balancing on my one good foot, Jack asked, “How much do you weigh?”

“What?” I had to hop a bit to get my balance. “Why do you need to know my weight?”

“I’m trying to decide if I should carry you over my shoulder or have you climb up on my back.”

“You want to carry me?” Normally, I would have been happy to climb on Jack’s back and his front, for that matter. But then the logistics of what he proposed sank in.

“One thirty? One thirty-five?”I wish.

I stuck my fists on my hips. “Don’t you think that’s a little personal?”

“It’s okay Mary, I’m a doctor.”

“Does that line usually work for you?” I asked.

“Actually, it does. But a woman’s weight isn’t usually what I’m asking for when I say it.”

My face flushed the same color as my ankle. “It doesn’t matter what my weight is,” I said, eager to shift the conversation. “You don’t have to carry me, because I’m going to finish this race.”

I took a few steps down the path to prove my point. The first step was torture. The second step was torment. The third step was listening to a Justin Bieber concert without a Q-Tip to stab out your eardrums.

“Mary, don’t be ridiculous. Here.” Before I knew what was happening, Jack scooped me up in his arms, pulling me in close to his chest. It was like snuggling up to a brick wall. His pectorals were even harder than they looked. It was hot outside, but the heat of the sun was nothing compared to the inferno that was slowing burning up inside me. Parts of me I didn’t even know still existed started getting all warm and fuzzy.

But as Jack held me close, I realized with sudden clarity that my entire body was covered in dirt and dripping with sweat. Surely I smelled like a middle school boys’ locker room. Jack, on the other hand, didn’t smell like sweat at all, despite having just run nine point three two miles. In fact, he smelled like vanilla and cherries.Almost like … no, he must have gone over to the Family Fun Run festivities for a sundae.

Jack shifted my body in his arms, and I could feel the bulge of his biceps against my hip. He angled me toward him, so my face was close to his.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” I was better than okay. Curled up in Jack’s arms, my head was naturally positioned to stare right into his luscious pink lips.Wait? What?

“Are you wearing lipstick?” Jack’s lips were smeared with a pink pastel substance.

“Huh?” Jack looked confused.

“It looks like …” Realization set in. “Did Janet kiss you?” I remembered that one of Janet’s volunteer duties was to hand out medals to the winners. She had told me she was going to give Jack a kiss if he won.

Jack touched his lips, coming away with a smear of pink on his fingertips. “Yeah, that was Janet,” Jack answered. “What can I say? Your friend can’t keep her hands off me, I guess.” Jack wiped the rest of the lipstick away with the back of his hand.So much for Janet’s GenZ inspired thirty day friendship only plan.

The heat building inside of me instantly went cold. Like a bucket of ice cold water tossed in my face.

The moment was further ruined when we saw the cloud of dust on the horizon. Moving fast. Moving toward us. A golf cart materialized out of the cloud, charging down the trail. It slid to a halt, kicking up gravel.

Ashley Griffin jumped out. “Jack!”

“Ashley, what are you doing here?” Jack dropped me like a sack of potatoes. I barely had time to get my feet under me, hopping on my one good foot.

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