CHAPTER TWELVE
I’m going to grab a cab,” Amber says, running short of breath. “You get Sam and bring him back here.” She leaves me standing on the sidewalk with my mouth hanging open.
“But . . .”
She’s already gone, stopping half a block away with her arm out.
Sam is quickly disappearing in the other direction.
What to do, what to do, what to do . . . Amber’s words echo around in my head: Little Miss Scared of Her Own Shadow . . .
Scared, my butt. I start running after him without another word. My sister needs my help and I’m going to give it to her, even though Sam is a big boy and I’m sure he can handle wandering around the city by himself. He did look upset. It might be good for him to have somebody nearby just in case. And I’m not afraid to talk to him, or run after him, or do what needs to be done, so there!
“Sam!”
He ignores me.
I kick my pursuit into higher gear, my feet slapping on the pavement with my all-out effort. I’m a-huffin’ and a-puffin’, my arms pumping madly while my skirt flies way out behind me—a sad imitation of a superhero’s cape. It’s a bird . . . it’s a plane . . . it’s Super Hippie! I can’t believe I’m doing this, looking completely foolish with so many potential spectators. What is wrong with that man, anyway? He knows I’m chasing him; why doesn’t he stop or at least slow down?
His strides are really long. He’s in a heated discussion with someone, and as I draw near, I hear parts of it.
“I told you, I can’t deal with this right now. She needs to get her shit together.”
Who is she? Who is he talking about? What’s her problem?
“I know that. I did everything I could for her before I left, like I have been for two solid years. Sadie is fine, I made sure of it, but I’m fighting a losing battle with her. At some point she’s got to stand on her own two feet.”
Wow. He sounds kind of heartless. After hearing this, part of me wants to stop and run the other direction, get in the taxi with my sister, and let him find his own way home. But Amber asked me to get him to the cab, and apparently she’s made it her job to keep him happy until Ty gets back, so I can’t let her down. I’m closing the gap between us, despite the fact that the hot dog I ate an hour ago is really kicking my butt. Oh, the cramps.
“I know she’s a mess,” he says. “She’s been a mess for a long time, and I’ve done everything I possibly can to change that, but until she wants to change on her own, there’s nothing we can do.”
I’m nearly there . . . I reach out to tap his shoulder . . .
“Listen, I’ve gotta go. This is not the time for me to be having this conversation.” He touches his phone screen and shoves the device into his back pocket, coming to a dead halt with no warning.
Unable to slow down fast enough, I run right into his back.
“Hey! Watch it!” he yells, jumping to the side and spinning around.
His sidestep causes me to lose my balance. When his body is no longer there to stop my descent, I fall to the ground and land on my knee, crumpling onto my side instantly with the pain that shoots up my leg.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” I groan. “That hurts so much.”
He’s standing over me, furious. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“Can’t you see what I’m doing?” I gasp. “I’m dying, you dingleberry!” I cup my hands over my knee, trying to will the pain away.
He bends down and swoops me up into his arms. One minute I’m on the cold ground, and the next I’m flying through the air. I scream out in surprise. “Whoop!”
“You okay?” He’s looking down at me, either annoyance or worry lines etched into his face.
I couldn’t be more embarrassed than I am right now. If my knee weren’t destroyed, I’d be running in the opposite direction twice as fast as I got here. “No, I’m most definitely not okay. What are you doing? Put me down.” I don’t like his hands on my body; it’s making me warm in weird places and my knee is killing me—a terrible combination of emotions. I struggle to be free. His beard tickles my cheek, and I reach up to slap it away without thinking.
“Sorry.” He drops my legs and my feet flop down. I cry out as my knee buckles under me.
He catches me before I fall and props me up with his shoulder. “You’re really hurt.”
“No shit, Sherlock. What was your first clue?” I’m angrier at myself than I am at him. I shouldn’t have been following so close. Hell, I shouldn’t have been running after him in the first place. Now who’s Miss Nosey Parker? Me, that’s who. I was trying so hard to listen in on his conversation, I ran right into his back. What a freak.
He stops and stares at me for a few seconds and smiles.
“What are you looking at? And why are you smiling when I’m clearly injured?” He’s laughing at me, I know he is. And who could blame him? Why do I have to be such a klutz?
“You just called me a dingleberry and said, ‘No shit, Sherlock.’ I haven’t heard either of those insults since the tenth grade.”
I frown, not in the mood for his happiness. “Yeah, well, I like to kick it old-school, what can I say.” I stand straighter and wince. I don’t think my knee is seriously hurt, but it is going to have a hell of a bruise. “Just help me get to the cab, would you, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am. It makes me sound bossy.” Why am I acting so rudely when I’m the one who was so busy trying to eavesdrop that I ran up his heels? Ugh. I wish I knew. It’s possible I’m still smarting from the comments Amber said about me being afraid of my own shadow, but I hate to think that she has that much control over how I feel. One little sentence issuing from her mouth has the power to turn me into a freak of nature.
“Why not?” he asks. “I like it when you get bossy.”
I roll my eyes. Trying to stay mad at him when he’s being like this is impossible. It’s like I can’t not embarrass myself when I’m in his presence, and he just finds it all so funny. Ha, ha, look at the goofy hippie, tripping on her own feet as she runs down the sidewalk. Keeping my mouth shut is probably my best bet from now on, so I decide to zip my lips. No matter what he says, I will not respond.
“It was very graceful,” he offers.
I say nothing.
“The way you fell to the side like that after you tackled my ass.”
Not responding is becoming difficult. He’s totally mocking me. There was nothing at all graceful about that fall, and we both know it.
“Is that your middle name? Grace? Because it should be if it isn’t.”
I grit my teeth to remain silent.
“Emerald Grace . . . huh . . . I didn’t get your last name?” He’s grinning down at me as I limp along.
I can’t remain silent any longer. “And you’re not going to. Could you just shut up for a little while? Your voice is making my knee hurt more.”
He barks out a laugh as we arrive at the cab.
My sister is standing there with her hands on her hips. “What happened to you?” She looks at Sam. “How did she get hurt? Why are you laughing?”
“She tripped. Very gracefully, I might add.”
“I was trying to catch up to Sam, like you asked me to, and I bumped into him.” I glare at Amber. This is mostly her fault. She knows I’m not athletic.
“Did you tell her to tackle me? Because that’s pretty much what she did.”
Amber frowns at me. “I definitely did not tell her to tackle you.”
“Ha, ha, very funny, you guys. Stop joking around. My knee is killing me.”
“Let me see.” Amber comes over and lifts up my skirt, exposing way too much of my thigh.
I slap her hand away. “Quit it! You’re showing everybody my nether regions.”
Sam stares up at the sky, biting his lower lip as his eyebrows come together up in the middle of his forehead, practically.
I glare at him. “I don’t know why my being exposed in public is so funny to you.”
“Nether regions . . .” He shakes his head slowly, lowering it to look at us. “You girls are killing me.”
Amber takes over the support at my shoulder. “Come on, sister. Lean on me. Let’s get in the cab and go home.”
“It’s not my home.”
She stops. “What?”
“I said it’s not my home. It’s your home.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Just get your butt in the cab.”
Sam opens the door for us, and I do my best to slide in, wincing when my knee bumps the front seat. I move all the way over to the far side and stare out the window. I am going to pout like nobody’s business, because today stinks. I’ve been outed as the least graceful woman in our family, my knee is aching, and on top of all that I have gas now, too, thanks to that terrible hot dog. What else could possibly go wrong?
This little trip is not going at all how I expected it to. I thought it would be just Amber and me sitting around her apartment, drinking wine and talking about the good old days, with me learning all about her new life. Instead, I’m watching my sister flirt with a homeless guy, eating food that’s making me have gas so bad that I’m afraid I’m going to spontaneously combust if I don’t get to a private place so I can unleash very soon, and I’m getting all hot and bothered over this dumb, moody-beardy guy who I somehow managed to tackle on the sidewalk in front of at least fifty people. I don’t think this trip could get any worse, and I’m only on day one.