“So do you want to go to lunch with us?” Dad asked, his hand on the door handle.
Brayden shook his head. “I’ve hurt her too badly. I broke us.”
Dad shoved the door open. “Then fix you.” He climbed out of the car and headed into the house.
Brayden sat there for a moment, Dad’s words echoing around him. He did need to fix him. He just wasn’t sure how to right the wrong that had happened to him, or the ones he’d caused because of it.
Chapter Twelve
Tilly
Tilly stared at the light coming through her bedroom window with no idea what to do with herself for the day. If she and Brayden were still together …
Stop! She couldn’t think like that. They weren’t together, and after the way he’d acted yesterday, like they were buddies who had happened to be in love at one point in their lives, it was unlikely that they’d ever get back together.
Did she want to get back together with him? She shoved a pillow over her face and screamed. Curses and swear words!
She would take him back in a heartbeat. He was her best friend. Still. No one knew the things she’d confided in him. He knew more about her than her family or Clover or Elise or anyone. Sharing memories with him, even hard ones like how she’d been adrift after her grandmother passed away or about the time she’d gone to summer camp and forgot to pack bras and ended up wearing the same one for 28 days straight. He knew it all, and he’d loved her.
At least, she thought he had. How could she have been fooled so easily?
She threw the pillow onto the floor. Her room was a mess. The bags the hospital had sent her home with were thrown in a corner. The top sheet was kicked into a knot under her comforter, and she had piles of dirty clothes to sort and wash. None of that sounded like it would help her forget Brayden, because he was also all over her room. The ticket stubs from their first concert together were tucked into her mirror. A picture of them in Zion National Park sat in the frame on her dresser. His Redrock T-shirts she’d borrowed with no intention of returning were scattered here and there. The blanket they used to lay on the golf course and watch the stars was draped over a chair.
What she needed was time in the sun. The doctor hadn’t cleared her for outside-the-gym activities. Her chances at reinjury were big, especially if she fell on her hip. The muscle there—or where the muscle had been before it was crushed—was still swollen and tender. But she’d been able to walk for hours a day in the stadium, go up and down the stairs with mild discomfort. Of all the types of exercise and activity she could participate in, a bike ride had the lowest impact.
Once the idea struck, she couldn’t get out of bed fast enough. Her padded cycling shorts were deep in the closet. Before the accident, she could ride from one end of Snow Canyon to the other, no problem. The route would be a decent test of her strength. And if she got tired, no one would have to wait on her. She could walk for a bit, soak up the smell of sand—yes, sand had a scent—and put Brayden out of her heart. Well, maybe out of her head for a couple hours, at least.
Once dressed, slathered in sunscreen, and equipped with a CamelBak full of water, she hopped on her bike and took off. The sun was up and shining. The weather app on her phone said the high was going to be 90—a mild day for August in St. George and a blessing she’d happily take.
She’d acclimated to the heat a long time ago. The climbing crew couldn’t take a day off because it was a hundred degrees outside. They took precautions and shortened climbs, but she’d spent many an hour in an oven.
Actually, she loved it. Growing up, she’d been the kid who didn’t like to build snowmen. When the first snow hit the Salt Lake Valley, she took it personally. Maybe that’s why her parents hadn’t put up a fuss when she’d told them she was staying in St. George after graduation.
Her mom was so great. She called to check in with her folks using the Bluetooth in her helmet to talk while she peddled. Dad was doing better and had lost a few pounds. Mom had changed their diet and said she had more energy too. They asked after her health and avoided the topic of Brayden. She hung up feeling like she could face the world.
Not Brayden. If she lived the whole rest of her life without having to see him, hear him, or smell him, she might be able to get over this heartache. Therefore, her chances were slim to none that she would ever move on, but hey, that was her life now. Today was about acceptance of the situation and pushing herself to see what she could handle on a bike.
She decided to take the west canyon trail. It was basically a hard-packed road with enough room for two vehicles. Horse riders shared the route, but she could easily dodge anything they left behind. The Navajo sandstone varied from white to red, and the incline was gradual.
She stopped at the trailhead, eyeing the challenge before her, letting the opportunities of an open trail spark interest in her emotionally befuddled brain. The sun was up high enough to require sunglasses, and she slid hers on, thankful she’d thought to tuck them into her shirt before she left. A quick assessment told her that her hip was holding up fine, and her body giggled with excitement.
Taking a deep breath of crisp air, she started off. The first part of the trail was easy. The more dirt she crunched under her tires, the more she started to feel like herself. She passed the bathrooms and knew she’d already gone 1.3 miles. Sweet. She felt strong. Good.
The sun beat down on her bare arms and shoulders. Sweat formed under her helmet, and her chin strap rubbed her skin. She pressed on.
Round and round her legs sailed, moving her forward. She dropped her gaze to the road in front of her, watching the pebbles disappear beneath the front tire. Her body shook as she bounced over a row of ruts from a rain she didn’t remember. If she hadn’t been so focused on what was right below her tires, she might have seen the snake long before she almost ran over it.
Screaming, she swerved to the right. Her tires slid on the loose dirt. She squeezed the brakes and was thrown over the handlebars, landing in a sagebrush. The skin on her arms and shoulders burned from scratches. “Ouch!” she yelled to no one.
The snake slithered off the other side of the road, not at all grateful for the sacrifice she’d made to save its life. Stupid garden snake.
She lay there for a minute, taking inventory. Her left leg hurt something fierce, and when she dared to look at it, there was a huge bump the size of a baseball on her shin. And just like that, her heart flooded with Brayden and she cried out.
Struggling with the weight of the bike on top of her legs, she managed to get out of the bush without putting weight on her left leg. She got a few more scrapes in the process. The small first-aid kit in her CamelBak wasn’t enough to patch her up. She popped two Advil and downed it with a long drink of water. She looked up and down the trail and didn’t see a soul. Not a surprise on a Tuesday morning.
She probed her leg and ankle. The ankle was protected by the brace she continued to wear. She’d have to thank Elise for being a stickler about that. The shin was another matter entirely. The large bump was red and angry. So was she. There was lots of fluid rushing to the area, so she loosened her shoelaces.
She did her best to stand and managed to get the bike off the ground too. But there was no way she’d be able to pedal, not with her shin tight and throbbing. Elise would kill her for not icing it right away. Too bad her friend was out of town with the team today, which meant Dustin and Blake were gone too. Tilly tried Clover, hoping she could pick her up at the bottom of the trail. Maybe she could sit on the seat and use her one leg to scoot. She tried it out and it worked okay since there was a slight downhill slope. However, to make it work, she had to hold her injured foot out to the side, and her hip ached.
