Page 62 of Set to Love

“It’s just a rolled ankle,” I mumble.

Zoe remains focused on my ankle. “Rolled or not, it’s still swollen, and you can’t tell me that this”—she presses lightly along the outside of the joint—“doesn’t hurt.”

I jerk my foot back.

“Yeah,” she says flatly. “That’s what I thought.”

I look away, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. “So what do you think, two to three weeks?”

“If we’re lucky,” she mutters.

Theo joins us then, dropping two heavy, crackling bags of crushed ice into Zoe’s waiting hands. His gaze flicks from my bare ankle to my face.

“For what it’s worth . . . ” Theo gives me a small nod. “That was one heck of a match.”

The lump in my throat grows a little tighter.

“Thanks,” I manage.

Zoe checks her watch. “We’ll do twenty minutes of direct ice, then wrap it up. Did you bring your slides?”

I bite my lip. “They’re back at the hotel.”

Zoe face-palms. “Katie. Seriously.”

“I didn’t think I’d need them. I thought I’d be walking out of here in my match shoes. There’s an old pair in the back seat of my 4Runner . . .” The words die on my lips.

“You don’t have the 4Runner, Katie,” Zoe reminds me.

“Oh.” My stomach sinks. “Yeah.”

Max, has been silent following the conversations asks, “What happened to the car?”

“She’s crossed the rainbow bridge,” I mutter, looking at the scuff on my racquet bag instead of him.

“Is the hotel nearby? I’d be happy to go grab your shoes for you,” Theo offers, already reaching for his keys. “Where are you staying?”

“At the Sunrise Inn, but you really don’t have to do that, Theo. I’ll just drive the rental back and⁠—”

“Not happening.” Zoe crosses her arms, her PT voice leaving no room for negotiation. “No driving. Not with that foot.”

“You can’t be serious,” I say, exasperated. “It’s an automatic.”

“I am,” she deadpans.

“Ladies, if I could interject,” Theo says, holding up a hand like a referee. “What if Zoe drives the rental back, and I follow her in my car? She can park the car, dart in for the shoes, then I can drive us both back here. After that, we can all head to Burger Chalet.”

He glances at Max.

“That agreeable to you?”

Max gives him a short nod. “Works for me.”

I look at Zoe’s resolute expression and Theo’s calm face, then at Max, who is still hovering like the Phantom of the Opera. “I guess,” I say, realizing I’m completely outnumbered.

“Then it’s settled,” Zoe says, already grabbing the rental keys from my bag. She looks at Max, her gaze softening just a fraction. “He can keep you company while Theo and I head out. Keep that ice on, Katie. I mean it.”

They walk toward the parking lot, leaving Max and I alone. He sits on the edge of the bench, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him, but he doesn’t touch me. He just looks at the ice bag on my foot, then up at me. “Burger Chalet? Is that the consolation prize?”