Page 69 of Wish I Might
“I think so.”Her ribs didn’t hurt when she breathed, and that was a relief.She wiggled her fingers and toes, grateful everything moved on command.“I’m not paralyzed, anyway.”
“Good.”He collapsed beside her.“Let’s not do that again.”
She lifted her head, noted they were lying half on, half off the mattress.Which was half on the floor, with the other half against the wall and drooping over them.
“Did I break your fall?”she wondered, looking up at the mattress.
“Pretty much.I tried to catch myself, but it didn’t work.Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”I think.She let out a slow, careful breath.“If you don’t mind, I’m just going to lie here for a minute.”
“Sure, sure.Take your time.”
“Are you okay?”she asked, and made the effort to turn her head.
He was on his back, shoulders scrunched up against the part of the mattress that curved against the wall.His eyes were closed, his face damp with sweat.
“Uh-huh,” he said without opening his eyes.“Kind of wish I had my beer, though.”
Now that he mentioned it.She turned her head the other way to look into the living room, where she could just see the bottles, dripping condensation onto the floor.“Me, too.”
“Who’s going to get them?”
She turned back to see he’d opened one eye.“I broke your fall,” she reminded him.
“Shit.”He heaved himself up, wincing.“Damn.I think I pulled something.”
“I think I pulled everything,” she countered, and closed her eyes, listening to his bare feet slap against the floor as he walked away.There was a pause, then more slapping, and she held out her hand.
He put something in it, but it didn’t feel like a beer.She opened her eyes to frown at her purse.“What’s this?”
“Your phone was buzzing,” he told her and, holding both beers, lowered himself to sit on the mattress again.“I think I might have cracked a rib.”
She dug into her purse for the phone.“Can you breathe without pain?”
He sucked in an experimental breath, then let it out.“Yeah.”
“Then you’re fine.”She found the phone, noted the missed call from Gwen, and hit the button to call her back before holding out her hand.“Gimme my beer.”
He passed it over.“You’re very unsympathetic.”
“I broke your fall,” she reminded him, putting the phone to her ear.“Hey, Gwen.What’s up?”
“I’m not sure.”Gwen’s voice was breathless and bouncy, as though she was walking fast or running.“You didn’t get Chloe’s text?”
“I didn’t have my phone on me.Hang on.”Bailey tipped the phone and swiped to her texts.Her stomach clutched when she saw the one from Chloe in the group chat—three fire emojis.
“Shit.”She put the phone back to her ear.“Where are you?”
“I just left work.I had to have one of the waitresses cover for me.”
“Is she home?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m on my way.”
She clicked off, passed the beer back to Nash, and got painfully to her feet.“Fuck, that’s going to hurt later.”
