“Is it broken?” Derek asks, cradling my hand between both of his and studying it carefully. Has he played a doctor or a nurse before? I can’t remember, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn Derek has an EMT license or something.
I shake my head. “Just a sprain.”
He looks up, his eyebrows pulling low. “But?” He must have heard something in my response.
After everything, this is the last thing I want to tell him, but it needs to be said. Even if I give my wrist a couple of hours to rest, it’s only going to get worse as the day goes on. We have four boats to get through the rapids today. Four boats and four guides. “But…” I take a deep breath and brace myself. “I’m not going to be able to row.”
His expression doesn’t change at first. It’s nothing but concern and worry and lingering anger. But I see the moment he realizes what I’m really saying, when his face slackens and drains of color.
I nod. “You’re going to have to do it, Derek. I need you to row the Big Drops.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Derek
I’vealwaysconsideredmyselfpretty fearless. I’ll try new things, and I’ve always done my own stunts, no matter how involved they are. I’ve run the gamut of encounters with overeager fans and always kept a calm head. For the most part, my perfectionism has been in the background, always looming but muted enough to work past it.
But today… Today might have broken me.
“Derek.” Donovan’s voice is muffled, like she’s speaking to me while I’m underwater.
“I can’t.” Those words have been on repeat both in my head and out loud. They’re the only response I have as I stare at the water rushing past my feet.
Honestly, I’m not sure how I ended up here, sitting slumped in the sand upstream from the boats, with my feet onlyinches from the river while I actively ignore the whispers of the other river guests a dozen yards away. They can say whatever they want about me, and it won’t change the fact thatI can’t do what Donovan needs me to do.
Donovan’s fingers wrap around mine, but I can barely feel them. I’m way past panic and stuck firmly in numbness. I’ve shut down.
In body, anyway. My mind is running full throttle, picturing all the things that could go wrong if I attempt to navigate a boat through rapids that have been given names like “Satan’s Gut” and “Little Niagara.” All the ways I could mess up. The consequences that would follow.
“Derek, I know this is a lot.” Donovan squeezes my hand. “I know you think you can’t do this. But you’ve been learning all week and taking notes. You’re comfortable on the oars. You can absolutely get through the rapids, and I’ll be right behind you the entire time.”
That’s part of the problem. If I hit a rock or flip the boat, Donovan could be thrown into the river again. She could be pinned between the boat and a rock, or get caught under the current. It was bad enough watching her fall into a few feet of water on the shoreline, but if we flip, Mason won’t be there to rescue her when I can’t. I wasterrifiedwhen she went under, more so when I was stuck watching her choke from nearly drowning.
I’ve never been afraid for another person like this before. I’ve worried about my friends—I worry about them all the time—but this is something different. This fear comes from my core, encompassing every part of me.
“Derek, please talk to me.”
Dropping my head, I slowly turn to look at her wrist and the purple bruising spreading from beneath the wrap that’s keeping it immobile. Logically, I know Donovan can’t row in her state. I know Red Earth River Tours was short-staffed this week so they couldn’t send a backup guide on our trip like they normally would. Iknowif anyone can walk me through a Class V rapid, it’s Donovan Tate.
But it’s been a long time since I was truly good at letting logic win. There are too many ways I could mess up in the whitewater, and it’s impossible to see a scenario in which I don’t.
“I can’t,” I rasp. The words taste bitter, no matter how true they are. I can’t even return Donovan’s hand squeeze, so how could she think that I can row without disaster striking? This isn’t flat water, where my biggest mistake is letting my oar twist. This is… I watch the water fly past the boats as the distant roar of the Big Drops fills my ears and makes me dizzy.
Maybe it’s for the best that we can’t be in a relationship; Donovan deserves more than a coward governed by a twenty-five-year-old mistake.
She deserves someone who can move mountains for her, no matter the cost.
And me? I’ve never felt so low. So small. So worthless.
“Derek?”
I lift my head at the sound of Hunter’s voice and try to read his expression as he settles on my other side. He looks tired. Almost defeated in a way. I hate that I’ve let him down. “Thank you,” I tell him, speaking words that are long overdue. “For holding me back.”
He meets my gaze, his jaw tightening. He knows I’m not talking about the moment when he stopped me from jumping in the river to save Donovan, though I should thank him for that too. I wouldn’t have taken the time to assess the situation and likely would have ended up hurting myself too if he hadn’t grabbed me. But I am even more grateful that hekeptholding on to me. The things I wanted to do to Brody…
Grunting, Hunter gently bumps his shoulder into mine. “The idiot would have deserved it,” he says with a shrug. “But you’re better than that.”
Clearly not, if I was more than ready to beat the crap out of Brody and can’t even stomach the idea of doing the exact thing I came here to do. My whole reason for coming here was to learn to row whitewater, but Ican’t do it.
