Page 24 of The Orc's Sweetheart
One by one, the other patrons wish her well and head back inside. I lean a shoulder against the wall and cross my arms over my chest as I wait for her to prove that she’s really okay, because all the cues I can pick up from her body language show that she’s actually in pain and not just embarrassed.
When Tilly finally looks up and sees I haven’t left, her reaction is not very favorable.
“Oh,” she sighs out. “You’re still here.”
“Yup.”
Bent over to inspect her ankle, Tilly says, “Okay, buddy. Would you like to lecture me now on my clumsiness or that I could’ve hurt someone if I wasn’t careful? Because if you are,I’d rather have you get it over and done with now before I head home and drown in embarrassment in the privacy of my own home.”
I’m such an asshole. That’s really why she thinks I’m here. And why would she think otherwise when I’ve yet to give her a reason to?
“I…” Not quite sure how to finish the sentence, I can only stare at the beautiful female as she waits for me to berate her.
Fuck. I have some groveling to do.
“You?” Tilly prods, still not giving me her full attention as she pokes at her ankle.
“I’m sorry,” I state plainly, knowing that it’s insufficient but needing to start somewhere.
Tilly’s brow furrows and her hands still. “Sorry? For what?”
I uncross my arms and stick my hands in my pockets. “For being an asshole.”
Tilly straightens up and chuckles. “Glad we’ve established that you’ve been a bit of an asshole. But you were kind of nice tonight. Now head back inside before you break the streak.”
“You’re hurt,” I point out, jutting my chin at her ankle.
“Thanks for stating the obvious, but I’ll be fine,” Tilly says with no heat in her voice. “Believe it or not, this is not the first time this has happened to me.”
“I’m starting to sense a theme with you,” I try to joke.
“You could say that,” she breathes out.
As if we both sense the newly formed truce between us, we take each other in for a moment in comfortable silence.
Needing a practical way to act out my apology, I say, “Let’s get you home.”
Tilly’s brows shoot up her forehead, but a small smile plays on her lips. “Let’s? How are you involved in this now?”
“I’m going to carry you home,” I state confidently.
Tilly shakes her head. “There’s no way you’re carrying me. I can walk just fine.”
“Prove it.” I fold my arms across my chest for a second, then think better of it in case it looks too arrogant, and put my hands in my back pockets instead. The stance feels unnatural to me since I never stand like that, so I quickly put them in my front pockets, hoping she’s not noticing my odd behavior as she tries to walk.
Tilly hobbles awkwardly with lips pressed together into a tight line and she breathes unsteadily through her nose, trying not to put weight on her sore leg. If she is planning to make it home like this, she might reach her cottage by the time the sun rises tomorrow morning. I can’t stand the thought of her willingly putting herself through so much pain for no reason. Either she’ll have to swallow her pride and ask for help, or I’ll simply convince her to accept mine.
“See,” she says through strained breathing after a few painful steps along the cobbled path. “I’m fine. Have a good night.”
“You can’t do it, can you?”
“Iamdoing it.”
“I mean, ask for help. You’re incapable of asking anyone to help you,” I say more than ask, keeping my voice gentle so she knows I don’t mean it in a menacing manner.
“That’s not true,” Tilly says, pointing a finger at me. “I asked Annamae for help with my garden. She’s going to come dance with my plants.”
I tilt my head at her. “Will you let me help you home?”
