“Should I let go then?” he asked.
“Yes,” I snapped, even though if he let me go now at this angle, I’d probably slip between the rocks. My feet were bare, but he wore a respectable pair of sneakers.
“I will,” he promised. “In a second.”
David slipped his arm underneath the back of my knees. I gasped when he lifted my feet off the rock.
“Oh, my God.” I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulder blades as he started our descent. I squeezed my eyes shut as we moved. “Be careful, please, be careful. If you lose your balance, David–”
“Shh, you’re fine,” he promised in a surprisingly comforting tone. “We’re almost down.”
He made it back to the sand and gently lowered me. Once he’d completely detangled himself from me, the girls surrounded me. They fussed over me, noting the rip in my slacks and the cuts on my ankles and arm.
“We have a first aid kit,” Covee said as she rummaged through her bag.
“I’m so sorry, Yara,” Emmy pressed her hand to my arm. “I shouldn’t have asked you to climb so high.”
“Did you bring a pair of sneakers?” Haven asked, frowning at my bare feet. “Or even flip-flops? You can’t wear heels to walk back.”
I was overwhelmed by the attention and care, and by the fact that I missed the feel of David’s chest beneath my hand. He’d been so solid and warm, the opposite of the shifting, cold sand underneath my feet.
“It’s fine,” I said hollowly. “I’m fine.”
“Thank God David was close,” Indie said.
“I’ll say,” Haven agreed.
Their attention extended to him when they noticed a cut on the back of his elbow. It was far deeper than my little abrasions.
“You were so quick,” Indie said, her hand lingering on his bicep.
“I don’t know how you got her back down that fast,” Haven agreed, sounding almost suspicious. In her defense, we did once theorize he was a vampire.
Covee assessed both of our wounds. When she met my gaze, asking for silent permission, I nodded and said, “Of course. He’s first. It’s way worse than mine.”
She moved, not hearing the rest of my sentiment. David seemed uncomfortable with their comforting words and warm admiration. His cheeks went red at the praise. He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite pass the wincing stage. Amid it all, David looked at me. We held one another’s gaze, and I’m shocked at the nerves in his eyes. He was shy because a bunch of hot women surrounded him, and he was used to eating lunch all by himself in the school cafeteria.
And there it was, David didn’t realize he was —to some—a very attractive man. A catch, if you were into football players who were made of sarcasm, nihilism, and a hint of keen observation skills. His eyes read, ‘save me,’ but I left him to simmer as I gleaned more material to use for future sparring matches. Unfortunately, it took an almost neck-breaking fall to get this information. The steep price was worth it.
7
While the restof the board went to the restrooms to change for the casual photos, David and I found our way back to his car to nurse our wounds. There was a heavy silence between us that I’m only used to experiencing with people I want to like me. Whenever we accidentally made eye contact, we both looked away.
“Great,” I grumbled under my breath as I searched through my bag for the thousandth time for a pair of socks. I was more than ready and willing to abandon my heels for sneakers.
“What?” David didn’t look up from the cooler he’d been reorganizing in the trunk. Apparently, he had enough forethought to pack us cold drinks and sandwiches for the day. He was taking his honorary member role seriously. It almost made me want to thank him. But since he was only doing this because of the dare and his burning desire to one-up me, I wouldn’t waste gratitude on forced attendance.
“I forgot my socks.” I sighed and tossed my things back into the bag.
“Check the glove compartment,” David said without looking up.
I made a face. “Are you confessing to having a sock fetish and stealing mine?”
He chuckled. “Maybe. Maybe I have all kinds of things in there just waiting for you to see and hold against me till the end of time. You know how I adore giving you the power to neg.”
“I knew you were a kinky guy,” I teased and opened the compartment. Inside, there was a neat stack of notepads and pens, a box of tissues, hand sanitizer, a copy of his car registration and insurance,… and a pack of unopened black ankle socks.
“Well, aren’t I a lucky girl?” I asked, grabbing the pair in awe and rueful appreciation. “First, you swoop me into your arms like some comic hero, and now, you’re offering me your just-in-case socks.”
