Humiliation plummeted into my stomach and heat climbed my cheeks.
Oh god.
“It’s not?—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted quickly. I couldn’t stand it if he said, “It’s not you, it’s me.” I was humiliated enough without having those god-awful, crushing words uttered. “I’m sorry,” Imurmured, looking out at the blackened trees to escape his gaze. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“You have no need to be sorry, Amelia,” he said, sounding pained. “It’s not?—”
“Jesus,” I snapped, holding up my palm. “Just stop, Karson. Don’t.”
He glanced off to the side, looking perplexed.
“Just... don’t,” I said with a sigh. “Can we forget about it, please?”
He looked back. A frown split his brow as he nodded slowly.
I dropped my head, wrapped my arms around myself, and walked back toward the car. My leg began to throb, and with each step, the pain grew until it became a stabbing agony.
He fell in line with my steps. “Is your leg hurting?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re limping,” he insisted.
“I said, I’m fine.”
We reached the bottom of the sharp rise I’d run down. It was steeper than I’d realized now that I was standing at the bottom looking up. I gritted my teeth and pushed forward.
In a swift, easy motion, before I even realized what was happening, Karson had scooped me up in his arms. The vision of him carrying me through the flames echoed in my mind. The feeling of his hand tucked against my hair, cradling my nose to his chest. The smell of smoke, mingled with scent of the sweet cologne he wore. The same scent I smelled now. It seemed so familiar. But it wasn’t, was it?
He glided effortlessly up the steep incline as if I weighed no more than a doll.
I kept my head turned outward; I couldn’t meet his gaze. Then he placed me down beside the car.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
His shirt was covered in smudged soot where I’d pressed up against him. He reached into the glove box and pulled out baby wipes. I just stared at him.
He read the question, his lips hooked up. “They come in handy for times when you have to chase a crazy lady through the woods.”
His words struck an invisible wound. “I’m not crazy,” I snapped, sharper than I intended as I snatched the wipe out of his hand, cleaning off as much as I could.
He blinked, taken aback. “I do not think you are.” He gave me another and another.
I could wipe the ash from my skin but not from my clothing and I didn’t want to stain his car.
I sighed. “I need to get changed.”
I followed him around to the trunk where he pulled a white T-shirt and a denim mini skirt from my bag. Normally I was quite modest, a “prude” Kelly had once called me, but today I didn’t care. I couldn’t have been humiliated any more than I already was. I whipped off my T-shirt, and Karson turned his head away. I began to unbutton the skirt.
“Amelia, there’s a car coming.”
I was too preoccupied with hoisting my dignity up off the floor to take much notice, but I did pause briefly to listen and heard nothing. I pulled off the skirt, standing in just a bra and black lacy underwear. No doubt they were Jodie’s selection. I heard it at the same time my eyes landed on a light-blue truck, appearing from around the corner.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“I told you.” Karson’s hands wrapped around the sides of my waist, and he twirled me to the side of the car, placing himself between me and the oncoming driver.
