“Is that all you’re really worried about?” He huffs behind me and then gestures his hand out, making my hand move as well. “You can never celebrate the small things.”
“Hey, whoa, I’m going to fall,” I say. “Stop moving.”
“Always have to complain. Always have to be angry about something,” he says, gesturing again.
“Wilder, seriously, stop,”
“Stop what?” he asks, leaning forward.
His weight presses into my back.
My legs shake beneath me.
And because I’m already off-balance from his erratic cheering, I can’t take on the minimal amount of pressure from him, and before I can adjust our feet, I start to tip forward.
And because I tip forward, he tips forward.
And before I know what’s happening, the ground seems to be moving closer and closer…
And closer…
Roll.
“Roll,” I screech.
“Fuck, what?” Wilder says as we head straight to the ground…face-first.
“For the love of God, roll.” It’s the last thing I shout right as I attempt to overthrow the giant man behind me, but there’s no use, as the pounds of muscle on him are too heavy. Watch out, ground. We’re coming in hot.
I brace for impact, closing my eyes and holding my breath just as I plow face-first into the ground, my eye connecting with what I can only assume is a rock, sending a jolt of sharp pain through my skull.
And from there, everything goes black as I hear Wilder mumble, “Oh…roll.”
Chapter Nine
WILDER
I can’t remember a time in my life when I’ve ever felt this guilty.
There was that time that I was mad at Mika back in middle school when his friends were over, and I grabbed his superhero underwear that he still wore and paraded it around like the asshole little brother that I was, telling his friends that Mika wore baby underwear.
But this…this beats it.
“There, that should do it,” the nurse says as she finishes putting a butterfly strip over Scottie’s swollen eyebrow.
I don’t know what came over me, but when we won the golf challenge, a challenge that a real couple should have been good at, I felt a sense of pride, energy, invigoration that I haven’t felt in a long time. I lost control, forgot that I was strapped to Scottie, and before I could calm myself down, we were tipping over and going straight to the ground.
I forgot about rolling.
I forgot about putting my hands out. And fuck, her cry when she hit the ground…
Once we were untied and I rolled her over, the blood already coming from her upper eye freaked me out.So. Much. Blood.
Horrified, I carried her in my arms to the nurse’s station, where they tended to her head.
Thankfully, it was not that big of a cut—just a small butterfly taping and she’s good.
“Do I have a black eye?” Scottie asks, looking up at me.
