Page 69 of Almost Ours

“Did you not think to brake?”

“I didn’t know how to do that either.”

His mouth drops open. “Why did anyone put you on a bike?”

“I was six. I was old enough to learn.”

“Rubes, no offence, but clearly not.”

“I’d like to see you do better!”

“I can ride a bike.”

“Yeah, now. My six-year-old self would have whopped your ass.”

“More like the wall tried to whoop yours.”

“You’re a dick.”

“A dick who can ride a bike.”

“I can ride a bike!” I’m indignant. “I just had to learn first.”

“Right.” Josh nods with mock solemnity. “After the wall taught you an important lesson.”

I shove at his shoulder, laughing, and another hard burst of pins and needles races down my left leg. My knee dips and Josh catches me around the waist, his fingers pressing into the fabric at my sides as I grab his forearm to steady myself.

“I’m okay,” I tell him.

There’s no hint of laughter left in his face now. His brows pull together while he checks my footing. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you can let go.”

His grip eases. His fingertips remain against my waist until I put both feet flat on the concrete, then he drops his hands and moves back enough to give me room.

I pull the hem of my top down where it has bunched beneath his hands, then straighten my left leg and press my heel into the ground. A prickling ache runs from the back of my thigh into my calf, but my knee stays firm when I shift my weight onto it. “See? Fine.”

“Can you walk on it?”

“I think so?”

Josh looks down at my leg, then at the stretch of pavement leading towards the road. “Do you want me to give you a piggyback back to halls?”

The offer makes me melt. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s only down the road.”

“I won’t be too heavy for you?”

“Too heavy? Ruby, you’re tiny.”

“I’m five-foot-three and big enough to get stuck in a window.”

“You got stuck in something the size of a fucking cat flap because you’re insane enough to try and squeeze yourself through it.”

“The door was jammed!”

“And your leg is busted.” He shakes his head, stepping closer and turning his back to me. He bends at the knees, one hand braced over his thigh, and he looks over his shoulder at me. “Get on.”