Page 13 of False Assumptions

Chapter Seven

Carrying Layla on the flat section of the trail hadn’t been too bad once she stopped fighting him and relaxed. But her extra weight going uphill had him breathing harder than normal by the time he got to the top. And having her wrapped around him—her soft breasts pressing against his back, her hands clutching at his shoulders, and her legs wrapped around his waist—did something to him that he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just having a pretty girl on him, though God knew he found her attractive enough. But her trusting him enough to get her out of there, especially since she had such a fierce independent streak, had him softening toward her despite her prickly attitude.

She wasn’t being prickly now. And she hadn’t fought him when he needed to adjust how he carried her, even though he’d been pretty sure she was going to.

Now they were back. Their cars were the only two that remained, parked on opposite ends of the graveled trailhead. The light had taken on the dull gray-blue quality that comes with twilight in winter. Reaching her car, he turned and set her down on the hood, releasing his hold on her legs. Her hands trailed down his shoulders and over his back, her touch sending a thrill down his spine, swelling the chub in his pants a little more. He resolutely ignored that feeling, just wanting to get her in her car after extracting a promise that she’d go straight to the ER to get her ankle checked out.

Turning to face her, she had her right ankle crossed over her other leg, her fingers gently prodding at the swollen joint. He hadn’t realized how bad it was while they were walking. Had it gotten worse once he put her on his back?

He took her foot in his hands, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight so he could see better. It was definitely swollen, and a faint purplish tinge spread across the outside of her ankle. “How does it feel?”

She grimaced. “It hurts. It’s not as stabby since I’ve been off it, but it’s still throbbing. I’ll ice it when I get home. That should help.”

“Whoa. You’re not going straight home, I hope. That needs to be checked out. What if it’s broken?”

Pulling her foot from his grip, she rotated it back and forth, a stifled grunt of pain coming through her compressed lips. “I don’t think it is.”

He stood with his hands on his hips, trying to figure out the best course of action. “You can’t be sure. With that bruise, it could be. You need to get it checked out. Will you even be able to drive?”

Her chin lifted, the stubborn expression he was growing used to settling on her face. “I’ll be fine. Why do you care so much anyway? It’s not like we’re friends.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” He ran a hand through his hair, clenching the short strands in frustration. “Maybe we’re not friends, but I’m not going to let you fuck up your leg because you’re too stubborn for your own good. Are you refusing to go for some other reason or because I suggested it?”

She opened her mouth, but didn’t seem to have a response.

“Look. Just flexing your ankle hurts. You shouldn’t drive. I’ll give you a ride, we’ll get your ankle looked at, and we’ll come get your car later.”

“Evan, seriously, you’re being—“

Stepping closer, he cut her off. “I don’t think you get it. I’m not making a suggestion. I’m telling you what’s going to happen.” And he scooped her up again and started toward his car. She wriggled again like before, but not quite as much. Instead she hit him in the chest.

“What is your problem? You can’t go around picking up women because they don’t automatically agree to what you decide should happen. That’s not the way life works.”

“Sure I can.” He gave her a quick smirk as he propped his foot on his tire, resting her legs across his knee so he could dig his keys out of his pocket and unlock his door. “I pick up women all the time.”

After placing her in the passenger seat, he leaned into the open door, giving her what he hoped was his most intense stare-down. “It’d be easier on both of us if you’d agree with me. Your ankle is hurt. If it’s not broken, then there’s some kind of soft tissue damage, which is worse in a lot of ways. Going home and putting ice on it is stupid. I’m taking you to the ER. If you want to call a friend to meet you there, I’ll leave you in their hands. But I’m not leaving you alone until I know you’re getting checked out. Got it?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her face a mask of irritation, but the pain must’ve been worse than he thought, because she didn’t argue. “Fine. I’ll call my friend Alyssa on the way to the hospital.”

“Good plan. Buckle your seatbelt.”

Before she could respond, he slammed the door and walked to the driver’s side. When he climbed in, she had her phone to her ear. But apparently her friend didn’t pick up, because by the time they were on the road headed for the hospital, she was leaving a voicemail.

“Hey, Alyssa. It’s me. Call me back when you get this. Bye.”

He stifled a snort. How informative. No urgency to the message at all. He glanced over at her. “Gonna try someone else?”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, her eyes glued to her phone. She sat that way the whole time, like if she stared at her phone hard enough, her friend would call back. But she never did.

It looked like Evan was going to be staying with her at the hospital after all.

Layla looked up from her phone as Evan stopped in front of the entrance to the ER. Alyssa hadn’t called her back, despite her voicemail and text. With a sigh, Layla waited until Evan came around to her side of the car and helped her out. Her ankle throbbed, the whole joint a white-hot ball of pain, and as much as it galled her to admit it, she needed his help.

At least he didn’t pick her up this time. He smelled too good for her sanity, and being pressed against his body scrambled her brain in a way she wasn’t used to and didn’t like. And that smile. If she didn’t know he used it on literally everyone, it would make her melt into a puddle at his feet with the force of its charm. But he was indiscriminate, and when he turned it in her direction, she knew it meant nothing. She had to remember that. Even if he made it hard by being nice to her, carrying her over a mile to the parking lot at the trail and then driving her to the hospital.

That was one thing that made him different from Mark. Even at his best, Mark never would’ve gone so far out of his way to help her.

A man with graying hair came out of the hospital doors with a wheelchair. “Need some help?”

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