Page 32 of Second Chance Vacation

“You guys go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“We’re not leaving you in the woods by yourself.” Savannah’s gasp of horror appears to jump Jackson to attention.

“I’ll stay behind with her for a few minutes. You guys go on ahead.”

Jackson,the hero.

Eye roll.

“Are you sure?” Savannah asks, but we all know she is going to take Jackson up on his offer.

“Of course. Just—can I borrow your phone? I didn’t bring mine, and we need the light to get back.”

“Oh—yeah,” Savannah perks, sliding her iPhone into Jackson’s palm, clearly ready to get back to the house.

The throbbing is finally going down, but I am still nervous about putting weight on my foot. I watch as Savannah and Wesley walk away as Jackson plops down on the ground next to me.

“Try to move your ankle.” He speaks matter-of-factly, reaching for my foot and pulling it into his lap.

I wince on contact. Okay, maybe the pain isn’t gone. I roll my ankle in the slightest motion I can muster.

He’s always helping me. Whether it’s a bruise, a cut, a burn, or a sprained ankle…he is always there helping me through it.

“I’m going to take off your shoe.”

I want to respond with something snarky or irritated, but all I can think about is the pain.

Jackson pulls off my sneaker, putting his palm against the bottom of my foot, gently putting pressure on it to get me to flex it.

“Ow!” I jerk, pulling my foot back to no avail.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put that much pressure.” He adjusts his grip. “How is that?”

“Better.”

Sweat begins to coat my brow. Jackson keeps hold of my foot as he stops putting pressure, just holding it in place.

“Where did you learn about this stuff?”

“I don’t, really. I know a little bit because of football back in the day. But mostly, it’s just what makes me feel better when I roll my ankle.”

“Makes sense.” I chew my inner cheek. “Do you still ever play? Like—for fun?”

Jackson chuckles. “Not really. I did intramural during undergrad, but law school was far too time-consuming.” He shrugs.

“I heard you’re going to be working at Baker & Park. I’m sure your dad is really excited.”

I don’t realize I’m showing my hand until it is too late. The moon glints off of Jackson’s face as he smirks. “Keeping tabs on me, huh?”

“Hardly.” I scoff, not convincingly. “My dad mentioned it.”

He hasn’t.

As embarrassing as it is, Jackson’s social media profiles are among my most frequent searches.

“How’s he doing?”

I can’t tell if Jackson is genuinely curious or just making conversation.

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