Page 45 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
He guided me to a fallen log with his hand on my elbow. “Sit your ass down.”
“You’ll have to work on that bedside manner.”
“I’m not the one who wants to be a nurse.” Another piece of information he’d gotten from my letters.
“Good thing with the way you man-handle people,” I grumbled as my ass hit the log and the bark scraped against my skin.
“If I were your man, you wouldlovebeing handled by me.”
I snorted. “Keep telling yourself that. I thought you said you were more than just your dick. So far, you haven’t given me any reason to believe it.”
He knelt in front of me and lifted my foot off the ground, resting it on his thigh. Not like he could do anything to fix it. But he held it in his big, calloused hands, and while he inspected the gash on my foot, I stared at him. His head was bent, brow furrowed in concentration as he gently brushed the pine needles and dirt off the sole of my foot.
His thumb grazed the cut, and I flinched, yanking my foot away. “It’s fine. There’s nothing you can do anyway.”
“Is that what you need?” he asked as he got to his feet. “A reason to believe in me?”
I blinked up at him. He looked like a Viking standing there. Strong enough to take on the whole world and conquer it. Hands big enough to palm a football. Shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the world.
A last burst of sun lit up his face, and for a moment, with the way the light hit him, he looked like a bronze statue. Shimmering. Golden.
I dragged my gaze away and thought about his question. Would he give me a reason to believe in him? Did I even want that?
“I don’t want or need anything from you.” As if to prove my point, I got to my feet and began walking. Not away from him. Just… it was easier to be on the move. I gritted my teeth and trudged down the path, venturing farther into the woods.
I didn’t know where the trail led, but it was beautiful under this canopy of trees. Quiet. Peaceful. Pine and musky earth scented the air, and it felt like it was ten degrees cooler in the shade.
“You’re so damn stubborn. Where the hell are you going anyway?”
“Just taking a little nature hike.”
When we came into a clearing, we stopped to watch the sun sinking into the cypress trees, the sky streaked with pink and violet and tangerine. Nearby, a whippoorwill sang a plaintive tune.
“Why didn’t you meet me?” Ridge asked.
The Sunset Grill. Our meeting spot. “My car broke down. I showed up an hour late, and Troy Wilkinson was there.” I laughed a little, and he joined me.
“Next question.” He faced me. “Why did you hang up on me last night?”
“Is that what we’re doing? Playing Twenty Questions?”
He shrugged and pushed his hand through his damp hair. A bead of water dripped from the ends of his hair and trailed down his bronzed shoulder to his clavicle. “Seems like a good place to start.”
“Start what?”
“I don’t know. Whatever this is. You and me.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, us.”
Something had shifted, like the molecules had rearranged themselves, and the air around us crackled. I wasn’t sure how to navigate this newus. I didn’t know what we were or what we meant to each other if anything at all.
I wanted to return to our safe world where our favorite pastime was slinging insults, but we couldn’t do that anymore.
“You sounded busy. Far be it from me to interrupt your dry humping session.”
“I called you back. Three times.”
