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“I’m trying to push off with my feet to help you. This way you don’t have to pull up my whole weight.”

“I can pull you up just fine as long as you stophelping.Understand?”

“How do you know though?”

“I just do. You’ve got to trust me, Lily.” His tone gentled.

I closed my eyes and took a breath. As I released it, I let my toes dangle and held on to the rope.Please, please, please don’t drop me.“Okay. I’m ready.”

“Finally.” I thought I heard him mutter, but the wind chose that moment to kick up, so I wasn’t totally sure.

Slowly, I moved up. I dared to look at the ground and noticed I was at least three feet high. I let out a small, happy sigh of relief. It was weird holding onto a rope, being pulled to the top, and giving up total control to someone else. The moment my head popped up over the ledge, Jaxon’s strong hands latched onto my biceps and pulled me to safety.

“You’re all right.” Jaxon’s voice rasped as he grabbed me and hugged me so tight, I could barely breathe. I wiggled in his grasp. It wasn’t until I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against his chest that he loosened his grip.

He drew in deep breaths while his hands ran up and down my back in soothing circles.

“Thank you so much. I really wasn’t sure you could actually pull me up,” I whispered.

He leaned back; his eyebrows drew close enough together to force a crease in his forehead. “Why not?”

Heat filled my cheeks, and I tucked my chin, refusing to look at him. “Well, you know ... I’m not little or light.”

He growled. “You’re being absurd. You hardly weigh anything. I bench press far more than you.”

I shrugged. He was being nice.

He tightened his arms around me. “I’m serious, Lily. I don’t want to hear you talk like that again. Got it?”

I bobbed my head up and down in a nod, my cheek rubbing against his chest. “Got it.”

“Let’s get back. It’s fucking cold out here.” He released me and took a few steps back.

I froze when panic crossed his face. Before I could figure out why, his body dropped a foot and bent at an awkward angle.

“Fuck!” he bellowed as the rest of his body crashed down to the ground, landing on his ass. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Oh my god, oh my god.“Jaxon,” I screamed, scrambling over to him, falling to my knees by his side.

His frantic gaze stared at his left foot, which was in a hole.

“What do you need me to do?”

He gritted his teeth. “I just need a minute. I didn’t hear a snap. And it doesn’t feel like I broke anything.”

I nodded.

He lifted his foot from the hole and laid it out straight in front of him. The moment he tried to rotate his ankle, he let out a pained grunt. “Fuck, it’s sprained.”

When I was younger, I thought about becoming a doctor and read any medical textbook I could get my hands on. I often pretended to diagnose my dolls and stuffed animals with various ailments. Little Sally, the bear, had fallen, badly spraining her ankle. I’d read at the time it was worse than a break. A clean break could heal and mobility was about the same afterward with proper care. However, a sprain could take weeks, if not months, to heal, depending on how bad it was.

“Can you stand?” I asked and offered my arm.

“I can get up by myself.”

I tried not to roll my eyes, but stood nearby and stayed close in case he needed me. He got to his knees, leaning on one, while bending the other leg, and putting pressure to stand on his good foot. The moment he stood and put pressure on the other foot, he winced. He needed help, and I had a feeling he was not about to ask for it.

I shook my head. Stupid, stubborn, man. Before he could protest, I tucked myself under his arm—ignoring my own aching muscles—and put mine around his waist. He was getting my help, whether or not he wanted it. I could be stubborn, too. “Let’s start off slow.”