“Stop rubbing it in our faces that you two got laid,” Parker says, and the entire group laughs.
“You’re just jealous,” Lauren says, making me wish we had Freshly Laid Lauren with us this entire trip instead of Angry Sex-Starved Lauren, who found every reason to be unhappy. Then again, maybe this trip has brought Lauren and Oliver closer together too; maybe being out here has made them realize why they’re together. Whatever it is, I’m glad they’re getting along today.
“Truth,” Jacob agrees.
“I see the road!” Avery shouts in a few minutes, and like an idiot, I lift my head and trip. Unlike all the times before, Tanner doesn’t have a chance to catch me, and I go down hard. As I land, pain shoots through my left hand, so much pain that I’m barely able to hold myself before I face-plant.
“Oh no.” I drop my forehead to the ground, and tears I can’t control fill my eyes while I tuck my hand against my stomach.
“Let me see, sunshine.” Tanner sits me up and takes hold of my wrist, and I open my hand, feeling suddenly dizzy when I see the large gash across my palm and blood—lots of blood. “Shit.” He whips his backpack off while Lauren and Oliver both start ordering me to hold my hand above my head.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” I swallow the saliva filling my mouth, watching blood drip on the ground in front of me.
“Close your eyes and breathe.” Lauren pats my back.
“It will be okay. Tanner’s going to clean you up, then we’ll get you to the hospital for stitches,” Oliver tells me, holding on to my wrist tightly.
“Slow and steady—everyone get up to the road and let Maverick know what’s going on,” Tanner orders the others, who wish me luck before complying.
“Do I really need stitches?” I peek one eye open to look at him as he dumps water over my open palm to clean away the dirt and pine needles.
“Yeah, sunshine.”
“Figures this would happen right when I get to the finish line,” I grumble, closing my eyes.
“You still did great today.”
Shaking my head, in too much pain to laugh, I peek one eye open once more and glare at him. “You say that every time I mess up.”
“You didn’t mess up. You tripped, and you did do great today, babe,” he says as he wraps white fabric around my wrist before he starts to circle my hand with it over and over. “Okay, that should keep the bleeding to a minimum until we get to the hospital.” He stands, then looks at Oliver. “I’m gonna give you my bag, so I can carry Cybil. Are you good with that?”
“Of course.” Oliver takes his pack as my eyes widen in horror.
“That’s not necessary.” I take a step back from him, waving my stump-looking hand out in front of me. “I’m okay,” I lie. My hand might be the worst of my injuries, but my ankle feels like it might buckle each time I attempt to put weight on it.
“Cybil—”
“Tanner, it’s not far. I’ll be okay.” I take one step, then another, and my jaw clenches so tight that I’m surprised I don’t crack some teeth.
“You’re not okay.” He takes my elbow when I try to pass him. “You’re in pain and you’re limping. I’d rather not have you tumble down the fucking mountain because you’re being stubborn.”
“I’m not being stubborn.” I try to cross my arms over my chest, but with the bandage, it feels awkward, so I give up. “I’m too heavy, and if you try to carry me, we’re both likely to end up rolling down the mountain.”
“This isn’t up for debate.” He turns his back to me. “Hop on.”
“No.”
As he turns to look at me, his eyes meet mine. “Hop on, or I’m tossing you over my fucking shoulder.”
Between the cursing and the look he gives me, I know he’s not going to give up, so I let out a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mumble as I hop onto his back and wrap my arms around his neck, careful not to choke him. When his hands wrap around my thighs and he starts to move, I say a silent prayer and squeeze my eyes closed.
“You good, or do you want me to take over?” I hear Maverick ask, and I open my eyes and find him at our side as we climb the side of the mountain.
“I got her,” Tanner tells him, not even seeming to breathe heavy, which I have to admit is pretty impressive.
“If you’ve got your phone on you, call Blake and tell him to meet us on the way with my truck. I’ll trade him and take Cybil to the hospital so the group can get back to the lodge.”
“Got it,” Maverick says; then I listen to him relay the message to Blake as we walk up to the road. When we reach the bus, I expect Tanner to put me down, but of course he takes the steps up, and everyone starts to ask if I’m okay. As he lets me down in the front, I assure them I’m fine. The bus starts to move, forcing everyone to take their seats.
“You doing okay, sunshine?” Tanner asks, sitting next to me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“Just wonderful.” I rest the side of my head against his chest as he takes my injured hand in his and holds it carefully in his lap.
“How much pain are you in on a scale from one to ten?”
“One million,” I only slightly exaggerate. With every beat of my heart, the throbbing pain in my hand only seems to grow more intense.
“You’ll feel better soon.” He turns his head to kiss the top of my hair. “As soon as we get to the hospital, I’ll make sure they give you something for the pain.”
“Thank you.” I close my eyes, then sigh. “At least it wasn’t my right hand, right?”
“Right,” he agrees, not sounding like he agrees at all. “Do you have your ID and stuff in your pack?”
I frown, then lift my head to look at him. “I don’t know what I did with it. I don’t even remember taking it off.”
“Lauren took it from you.” He looks over his shoulder and calls out for her to pass the pack forward. When he has it, he sets it at his feet, and then the bus starts to slow. Not long after that, he’s lifting me into the passenger seat of his jacked-up truck and driving me to the hospital.
Totally awesome.
Not.
Chapter 13
TANNER
As I sit in the chair next to Cybil, my teeth grind as I attempt to keep my cool, something that Dr. Smooth—yes, that’s really his name—is making nearly impossible for me to do. Before now, I never understood why men act like Neanderthals around their women, pounding their chests and growling one-syllable words. Now, I fucking get it, and it will be a miracle if I make it through Cybil getting her stitches without acting like a jealous asshole.
“I travel to Oregon quite frequently. We should meet up the next time I’m there and have coffee,” Dr. Smooth says with his head tipped down, completely missing the daggers I’m shooting at the side of his head.
Cybil licks her lips, glancing at me quickly. “Maybe,” she says, and the only reason I don’t toss a chair, pound my chest, and war-cry the word mine is because she looks a mix of bewildered and a little horrified by the attention and suggestion.