“Jackass,” she mutters, but I see a glimmer in her eyes. A little piece of the Layla I know is still there. After slowly pulling her hiking boot off, I remove her sock. Studying her foot, I push lightly in a few spots, and Layla doesn’t make a sound.
“How does it feel now?” I ask, keeping one hand on her ankle, while the other cups her calf. Her skin is so smooth and soft.
“It feels okay, I guess? It’s not hurting, but it doesn’t feel great either. I don’t know if that helps anything.”
“If you’d sprained it, it would start to swell pretty quickly, and it would be tender to the touch. Do you want to try to put some weight on it? That can tell us a lot about how emergent the injury is.”
When Layla nods, I help her to her feet. Putting an arm around her waist, I encourage her to put weight on her injured foot. “It aches a little, but doesn’t hurt too much. I guess it isn’t sprained then.”
“You probably twisted it and didn’t do enough damage to qualify as a sprain. It’ll possibly be a little bit tender for a day or two.” Layla looks down at her foot, then at the trail.
“Guess I better get to walking,” she whispers. “It’s going to take me a while to make it back to my car.”
“I’ll go with you,” I tell her. “In fact, let’s put your shoe and sock in my bag, and I’ll carry you. That way you don’t make your foot feel worse.”
Layla stares at me with panic in her eyes. “You’ll carry me? How?”
I chuckle. “First of all, you’re like one hundred pounds soaking wet. Secondly, I’m an athlete, babe. I can carry you for the full length of this trail if I want to. Bridal style or piggyback?”
Mouth agape, Layla stares at me incredulously. “I — I don’t know?”
Taking my backpack off, I shove her shoe and sock inside, then put it on backwards. Turning around, I bend into a squat. “Jump up. I think this will be easier on both of us since it’s a couple of miles back to the cars.”
I wait patiently, hearing Layla huff out a breath before I feel her hands tentatively grip my shoulders. She shifts, lifting her leg, and I grip it behind her knee. When she jumps, I grab her other leg, then shift to pop her further up my back. She squeals adorably, making me smile. “You good?”
“Um, yeah, I think so. Are you sure about this? I can probably walk really slowly,” she says hesitantly, her hands still gripping my shoulders in an odd position.
“Put your arms around me,” I command, then fight the groan in my throat when she immediately obeys. “Keep your arms around my neck, okay? That’s your safety net. Nothing will happen to you if you hold on tightly.”
“Okay,” she whispers. I look around the ground for any of Layla’s things, and when I find none, we start back toward the parking lot. Not exactly the hike I thought I’d get today, but I’m not complaining. I’ve got a very pretty girl wrapped around me.
“So you said you have a friend who introduced you to this trail?” I ask as we trudge along.
“Yeah. She knew I liked to go hiking.”
“Any other trails you recommend?”
“She gave me a list, but I haven’t tried them all yet. The weather wasn’t conducive to lots of hiking this winter, and I’m still not acclimated to winter weather,” Layla confesses.
“You only spent a year with Baltimore. Is that your only experience with snow?”
“Yeah. I was born and raised in South Carolina. It rarely snows there. Or, at least it didn’t snow where I grew up. If anything, they get ice. The concept of a foot of snow is mind-boggling to me. I still can’t wrap my head around it.”
“I’ve spent the majority of my life in California. I’ve had a hell of a time acclimating to the weather here. I can’t decide if I really like it or not,” I tell her. “The views make up for it, though.”
“Oh, I agree!” she gushes. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can live anywhere without a mountain view now. It’s just too pretty.”
“I’ve got a view of the mountains from my apartment. That wasbasically the only must-have I put on my list when I had a realtor find me a place.”
“I don’t have a view, but my apartment is pretty crappy. I grabbed the first place I found that I could afford. Hopefully I’ll be able to move in a year or two, and find something in a better area.”
I hate the gut reaction I have, like a lead weight being dropped in my stomach. “Where do you live?”
Layla rests her head against my shoulder, and I peek over to find her smiling at me. “Would you even know if I told you two cross streets?”
“No,” I confess, chuckling. “I basically know the downtown area and how to get to the airport. Let me rephrase and ask what part of town you live in.”
“North of town,” she replies. “Close to Commerce City.”
