As if he knew she was about to protest again, he said, “Candace, I’m not moving until you do.”
Sighing, defeated, she used her poles to propel herself forward and winced against the pain. With her back to him, she knew he couldn’t see the torture she was putting herself through. But she had to get down the mountain somehow.
By the time the cat track came out to the next run, tears were stinging her eyes and her ankle throbbed. They were still a few runs away from the lodge.
Brent came to a stop next to her. The run was blue and would normally be easy enough for her to get down, but she knew it wasn’t easy enough for her ankle.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Go on ahead. I’m going to take it slow.”
He looked over at her as if he were studying her. “Do you want to find an easier one? I’m not sure if there are any green runs over here, but maybe there’s another blue that’s smoother.”
Why was he being so nice? And why was he insisting on sticking with her? She tried so many times to get him to just go ahead, but here he was, sticking by her side.
Like a fucking weirdo.
“No, this is fine.”
He waited and motioned for her to go. She sighed, exasperated.
“Brent. Just go!”
As if he suddenly realized what was going on, he pulled his goggles off his face and rested them against his helmet. “Did you get hurt?”
“No.” The lie wobbled on her voice.
He examined her, clearly not believing her reply. “Is it the ankle or knee?”
She looked back at him and considered what lie she could tell, but he would figure it out as soon as she tried to slide down the mountain on her ass the rest of the way. “My ankle.”
“How bad?”
Her shoulders sagged, defeated. “Pretty bad.”
“Do you think you can get down this run?”
“Maybe on my ass.”
His lips quirked briefly before he yanked off his gloves and fished into his pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and typed something in the search bar.
“Googling how you can get me down the mountain?” she asked, rolling her eyes.
He lifted a brow but didn’t respond. Finding whatever it was he was looking for, he clicked on the call button and held the phone up to his ear.
“Hi, yes, my name is Brent, and I’m currently on the east side of the mountain by the—“ He glanced up at the sign. “—foxtrot run. My friend is injured.”
She snorted. Friend. Right. He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows in question. She shrugged.
“Okay, thanks,” he said and ended the call.
“Who’d you call?”
“Ski patrol.”
Her eyes about bugged out of her head. “What? Oh no. I’m going to get down this mountain on my ass.”
She went to drop to the ground, but winced as soon as she put any pressure on her foot. He watched her struggle for a few beats before he grabbed her under the arms and hauled her back up to her feet, positioning himself next to her to take the weight off her ankle.
