Page 26 of Only in Your Dreams

“Shit,” I breathe through a clenched jaw, sawing my teeth against the pain. Slowly, I move on all fours and try to get to my feet— “Ow. Nope.Nope.”

I flop back onto my ass, wincing as I try to peel Summer’s leggings up my calf to get a look at the damage. Everything’s covered in mud, but even so, I can see my ankle is starting to swell.

Why? Why is the universe hellbent on torturing me?

Tears of frustration prickle my eyes. It’s not enough to get dumped, to realize I’ve been living with wool over my eyes for the past six years with Connor. It’s not enough to have to move in with Parker, to be stranded here with Zac.

I have to be down a limb, too.

“Melody?”

My stomach sinks. Right on cue, Zac’s voice floats through the woods from the campsite.

What are the odds I can scale this hundred-year-old tree to hunker down sloth-style until someone comes to rescue us?

“Melody?Mel?” Zac calls again, louder than before. Even from where I’m sitting, I can hear the panic in his voice. “Melody!”

“I’m over here,” I call back. Completely unhelpful, consideringherecould be anywhere in these woods, but already his footsteps squelch through the mud in my direction. I wipe the tears from my cheeks with the only part of my sweater not covered in mud.

“Mel, if this is some kind of twisted game of hide and go seek—”

Zac emerges onto the path. He looks barely awake, hair sticking out at all angles, pillow creases covering his cheek. Totally disheveled in his sweatpants and the long-sleeve bunched around his hips, leaving a strip of skin between it and his sweats as though he dove straight into a search and rescue mission without minding himself first.

Not that he needed to. The shirt leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, and damn him for it. How does he look in even better shape now than when he played football?

It’s offensive.

I feel personally victimized.

He doesn’t see me right away. Zac sweeps the area at eye-level, before finally finding me in this puddle of mud. His mouth is ajar as though he’s not really sure what he’s seeing. And then his gaze glides along my legs, zeroing in on the ankle I’m clutching.

“Are you hurt?”

It’s like someone’s lit a firecracker in his pants. Zac powers forward, so focused on me he nearly wipes out in all this mud at least twice before reaching me.

“What the fuck happened?” he growls, dropping to his knees by my feet. He slides off my flip-flop, so gently my foot doesn’t even jostle.

“Well, I had this idea that I would make a bad situation worse by twisting my ankle.” Zac shoots me a searing look, utterly unamused as he carefully brushes the skin along my ankle. I bug my eyes. “Sheesh. Tough crowd.”

“How bad is it? Can you move it at all?” He steadies my calf as I make an attempt to rotate my ankle. I clamp my mouth against a whimper, and with a wince he grips my toes to stop any further movement. “Easy. Let’s get you back to camp. I’ll find something to wrap it up with before the swelling gets any worse.”

He moves to my side, arms outstretched, and I dodge his hands so abruptly my ankle twinges. “Ow,fuck!” I cry through clenched teeth. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m picking you up.”

“No, thanks. You don’t get to waltz in here acting the hero.” I plant my hands into the mud and attempt to heave myself up, gritting my teeth as my ankle protests the movement. It hurts so bad that tears sting my eyes again.

“That’s enough.” Zac gives me a hard look, daring me to defy him before tugging me into his chest and winding his arms around me.

“I’m heavy,” I warn.

Zac rolls his eyes. “According to who? I could fit you in my pocket, Mel.”

I don’t answer him. Connor would say so in passing all the time. When he noticed my feet hurt after a night out in heels.I’d carry you to the car, but you’re a little heavy, Melly.

The tick in his jaw tells me Zac’s question was rhetorical. He lifts me in a smooth movement so that I’m cradled in his arms. For a split second, I almost forget myself. Almost sink into him, lay my head on his shoulder. Let myself admire the faint laugh lines at the corner of his eye. I used to love those laugh lines. They’re visible even when he’s not smiling.

It’s a smile I have yet to see this weekend. Summer was right about him.

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