Page 13 of Not You Again
Adam sat cross-legged next to her. “Okay then, if you couldnotrun behind Shireen’s car again, I’d appreciate it.”
“Reminder thatyouwere the one who tackled me to the ground and screwed up my back. So now I’m in massive pain and stuck here. But now that I know it’s a big problem foryou...” Carly let out a breath. She wasn’t sure if she was at fault for inconveniencing him, or if he was for every word coming out of his mouth.
The next words out of Adam, though, were unexpected. “What happens if you need to pee?”
“Excuse me?” She squinted at him.
“We can’t stay here all day. Eventually, we’ll need food and water and...”
“To pee,” she added quickly, because she sensed he was easily embarrassed. Sure enough, a flush crept up those dangerous cheekbones of his.
“Yes, that.” Adam looked away.
She put her free hand on her hip, as if to emphasize she was capable of moving. “Eventually, the painkillers will do their thing, and I’ll get up to... pee, etcetera.”
“And I’ll just wait until you can do that.”
“These rocks are surprisingly comfortable,” Carly said. “I could take an all-day nap right here.”
“I bet. The one digging into the side of your eyebrow looks particularly soft.”
She didn’t care for his smile. It was unnerving, like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs—unnatural and forced.
“You’re not going to stay with me,” Carly replied.
Adam raised a brow. “Oh, I absolutely am, if only because I can tell thatreallyannoys you.”
Her mouth fell open. “I don’t want you here.”
“I don’t want you to be pecked to death by hungry buzzards, so we’re at an impasse.” He stood with the kind of ease she could only dream of in that moment. “Be back.”
Carly gripped a handful of stones in her fists and squeezed. Hard. Maybe the loop wasn’t a state of limbo, but actual hell.
As if sensing her need for a release, the pain meds kicked in and she felt altogether light and woozy. When Adam returned, he pushed a navy wheelchair.
“This feels a lot like a horror film,” she said. Though, perhapsbecauseof the medication, she wasn’t as frightened as one should be when their enemy was wheeling a chair toward them.
“I know what you mean. Hearing you complain all day already feels like knives in my ears.” He came to a stop next to her and brightly said, “I’m going to lift you onto this.”
Adam was proud of his little idea, that much was clear, but Carly wasn’t going to give him a win so easily. In order to get into the chair, she’d have to move. “Do funeral directors have the upper body strength to lift thirty-something-year-old women?” She eyed his button-down shirt as if to say,I don’t see anything impressive hiding under there.
“I go to the gym every morning before work. Or, I used to.” The bastard’s smile widened. Then he added, “Lifting you will be nothing.”
She swallowed. “If you hurt me, then I get to do something in retaliation. Like, hand you over to the Swifties so they can use your limbs as friendship bracelet holders.”
“Weirdo.” His face was genuinely disgusted, which made her happy.
If she was in pain, he should be, too. Without much warning, he hooked his hands under her arms and bent down low and close. Unlike his sour demeanor, he smelled buttery and sweet. That was also unfortunate, seeing as butter reminded her of happier, yummier times. And this was absolutely not one of them.
“On the count of three. Here we go. One, two...” He grunted on the three as he lifted her up. His arm deftly wrapped around her legs, but his other hand had accidentally landed on her boob.
“Umm,” she said at the same time he said, “Oh, God.”
His hand hurriedly moved to her shoulder, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. “So sorry,” he said as he turned toward the wheelchair.
And now she had some ammunition. She thanked whatever sick fuck of a god had trapped them in this loop, then said, “I can’t wait to tell everyone that we hooked up.”
“That’s...” Adam bitterly chuckled. “Please don’t do that.”
