“Same,” she says, and her smile is so utterly adorable that I lose my concentration and end up tripping over my own feet. I catch myself, but my sharp intake of breath causes Abby to turn around and crowd into my space.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, scanning me for obvious signs of injury.
I’m tempted to play it cool again, but I don’t think I’ll be able to hide a limp after this.
“My knee is bothering me today. It’s fine, though.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asks, more incredulous than angry.
“Well, because it’s fine. I took some meds. I have more.”
“Give me the backpack,” she says and gets her hands under the straps. I grab her wrists to stop her, but she keeps trying to get the straps off me. “Miles, just?—”
“I said it’s fine, Abby,” I say, way sharper than I intended.
She rears back, hands in the air. “Okay. Fine. Sorry.” She turns around, walking toward the lighthouse again.
Well, fuck.
I was trying so hard to avoid being seen as weak that I managed to look like an asshole instead. She’s walked ahead now and is too far for me to apologize without having to yell.
I clench my teeth as I take my first step on my bad leg. The first one is always the worst. After that, it gets easier, and after a few minutes, I’m walking with just a slight limp. I haven’t caught up to Abby, but I never will if she keeps booking it at the pace she’s going. She has every right to be mad at me; I was a jerk. She didn’t deserve me snapping at her like that.
The sun disappears behind a large cloud, the darker skies reflecting my foul mood. I’m operating on no sleep, a bum knee, and a short fuse, but that’s no excuse. I need to get it together.
A clap of thunder rumbles across the sky. Abby swivels to look at me, her expression unreadable from the distance. She waits as I catch up to her, her arms knit tightly across her chest.
“Should we turn back?” Abby asks.
“We’re not far,” I say, pointing to the lighthouse.
“But neither is the storm,” she says, pointing to the sky.
“We’re closer to the lighthouse than the car,” I reason. The landmark looms over us, making me feel small in a world where I otherwise tower over people.
“Whatever,” she mumbles. With a shrug of her shoulders, she turns away from me again, but I catch her arm.
“I shouldn’t have snapped on you like that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“When I’m injured, I…I act like a trapped animal. I lashed out, and I’m sorry.”
She nods, accepting my apology but not meeting my eyes.
I hook a finger under her chin and bring her gaze up to mine. “I’ll do better,” I say.
Her lips part. Her eyes drop to my mouth. I take it as an invitation, leaning in to brush my lips over hers.
And then the sky opens up on us.
“Shit,” she spits and unzips the backpack on my front, grabbing both of our jackets out of the pack. We cover ourselves, and I gesture to head to the lighthouse. Abby starts to jog ahead. I do the same, ignoring the discomfort in my knee. The rain is warm, fat droplets soaking through our clothes in no time.
When we get to the lighthouse, there isn’t a dry spot on us, and while the knob turns like it’s unlocked, the rickety wooden door doesn’t budge.
“It’s stuck,” I say.
Abby holds up her hands like“What do we do?!”
