‘Why?’ I grinned.
A beautiful blush was creeping up Lydia’s neck.I was throwing her off.So I used that opportunity to seal the deal.
‘What’s the heaviest thing in your bag, Amy?’
I threw my bag down, clipping it open.
‘Are you sure?’ Amy’s eyes shifted between Lydia and me, as if she were worried there was some underlying tension she was unaware of.
‘Amy, come on.’ I gestured around.‘It’s the least I can do for crashing this trip.Right, Lydia?You were fine with putting me to work the other night.’
I’m not ashamed to say I added a flirty edge to my voice.It’s got me out of more than one scrape in my life – from a business-class upgrade to weaselling my way out of a parking ticket.Liam always hated the way I did it.He said consequences bounced off me.Like it wasn’t a skill in itself to be bold enough to try.
Don’t ask, don’t get, Mum used to say.
Lydia’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded to Amy.
‘Okay, if you’re sure,’ Amy said, a little dazed.I took some of her items and, by the time she put her backpack back on her shoulders, she sighed with relief.
‘Thanks, Ren.’ Amy smiled.‘That’s much better now.’
‘It’s nothing.’ I smiled, my eyes on Lydia.‘Maybe I need to go up a weight,Coach.’
Lydia rolled her eyes, but I knew I’d made her smile.Even internally.
Amy made her way back to the group, moving faster than before.Peggy followed her, cantering to rejoin the group.
‘Why did you do that?Take her stuff?’
My eyes shift to Lydia’s ankle.‘You’re in pain.Your boots are rubbing, and so are the straps on your backpack.You were going to make it worse carrying both of those packs.’
Lydia raised her chin.‘I could have done it.’
‘Of course you could.’ I raised an eyebrow.‘But would you push your clients through injuries?’
Her silence was a quiet victory I refused to rub in her face.I would have done it years ago, but we weren’t there yet.
‘It’s pretty simple, Lyds,’ I said quietly.‘I don’t like seeing you in pain.And if I can do something to avoid that, then I will.’ Her head snapped up, eyes locking on mine, searching.Maybe to see if I was joking, maybe for a way to explain away my words.But I didn’t give her one.
I saw the exact moment she absorbed my words.Something in her softened, just for a second, before she blinked it away.
She swallowed, then nodded.‘Okay.’
We walked silently for a few beats before she muttered, almost too quietly, ‘Thank you.’
My chest tightened, expanding with something warm and insistent.
‘No problem.’
‘Right, if everyone wants to stop here for a second.’ Mandy brought everyone to a halt.‘There is a time-honoured tradition on these trips of doing a little race up the last of the hill, up to the summit of Bleaklow.Now, anyone too tired can walk with me, but I suspect we have some people ready for a challenge.’ Her eyes shifted to Lydia, and I huffed a laugh until her eyes landed on me too.
‘This path here,’ Mandy gestured to the grassy path littered with stones, ‘leads to the peak.First to the top wins first shower at the campsite.’
My eyes flickered to Lydia, who was biting her lip in a way I know is assessing her likelihood of winning, weighing up the effort and reward.I knew she had decided to go ahead when her eyes flicked to me, her natural opponent since she was six.Lydia never had any siblings to fight against, to beat, to give her the first taste of victory.And Liam had been too old and weary after losing Mum for games by the time I’d been ready to compete.So it was Lydia and me.And I loved it.We’d compete over the last slice of pizza, or who could run to the end of the garden the fastest or who could down the pints the quickest.I usually lost, even when I actually wanted the prize, but I was soothed by the glorious look on Lydia’s face – flushed and victorious.
But she was injured.
‘Lydia,’ I warned.‘Your blisters.’
