Page 47 of Sassy Love
“Fine, I’llendeavorto catch you. Don’t come bitching to me when you end up with a concussion.”
He huffs and shakes his head, but Manuel positions us the perfect distance apart again, this time with Rawlins’s back to me.
“Okay, I’ll count you down, Mr. Lawson. Miss Carlie, be ready to take his weight.”
I stare at Manuel, forgetting to ready my stance. That last phrase shouldn’t hit the way it does.
Take his weight.
But after yesterday in the shower and then the failed therapy session, something about him has changed. Nothing huge, just a subtle shift in the way he speaks to me.
So, in true sassy-bitch style, I dialed up my defensiveness.
There is no way this man is hauling my walls down. He may have chipped away a few bricks, but the wall still stands.
“Five, four... Miss Carlie, ready?” Manuel shoots me a look that screams ‘pay attention.’ “Three, two, one, and fall.”
I quickly spread my feet, reaching for the man in front of me, the man who has handed over his trust so easily. My palms meet his back.
Fuck, he’s heavy.
I scramble to stay on my feet as his slip on the grass. We tumble to the ground in a tangle of legs and flailing arms. His head hits my chest and wind leaves my lungs.
Rawlins rights himself and turns over, pushing to all fours, looking down at me from under his messed-up hair. “Hell, you okay?”
“Ow! Shit. How are you that heavy?” I sit up on the grass, hands planted on the ground behind me.
He chuckles as he jumps to his feet and extends his hand, offering to help me up. I smack it away and scramble to my feet.
“Again. I’ll be ready this time,” I hiss.
“How about Mr. Lawson catches you now?” Manuel prompts.
I roll my eyes but say, “Whatever.”
Standing in front of Rawlins, I force my eyes shut.
I hate this.
“I got you, Lamont,” Rawlins says, his tone low and soft.
I almost believe him.
“Five, four, three, two, one, and fall.”
Here goes nothing. I wrap my arms around my body, clinging to my biceps.
I tip backward, and the sickening feeling of weightlessness with no guarantee I won’t hit the ground swells in my stomach. I squeeze my arms tight. I freefall for what feels like ages...
Warms hands slide over my arms and grip tight.
My head hits something solid. My back stops against a wall of muscle.
“Got you,” Rawlins whispers, his breath hitting my neck. Shivers flood my skin, traveling up my spine. I can’t tell whether it’s his words or his touch, but the air in my lungs stalls out regardless.
“I—”
“Trust, see!” Manuel exclaims.
