Chapter 7
seven
. . .
SUMMER
My wrist is throbbing. And Rory Shields’ hard, shirtless body is spread over me like avocado on toast.
“Shit. Are you okay?” he asks.
He’d asked the same question when he pulled me from the ocean, but now, as the cause of my peril, his handsome face crumbles with pain.
For how much of a dead weight he was a moment ago, he springs off me, releasing my wrist from where it was trapped between his shoulder and the ground.
“I’m fine.” I start to roll my wrist out hoping the movement will ease the tightness, but the shooting pain causes me to wince.
“You’re not fine.” Rory’s expression tightens, like my pain physically affects him. “We need to get your wrist checked out.”
I pull my wrist away as gingerly as I can despite the thrum of annoyance running through my veins.
“What I meant to say is that I’ll be fine,” I grit out. “I’ll ice it or something.”
He pulls his shirt on and I’m thankful that I no longer have to stare at all those rippling muscles of his. Ignoring every word I just said, he collects the dogs’ leashes, then takes my uninjured hand in his and starts leading us away from the beach.
“Come on. I’ll drive you.”
I’m in denial that anything is wrong with my wrist because that would only add to the growing list of shit things that have happened this past week. I’m starting to wonder if Coral Cove is where I’m meant to be. The other towns I’ve lived haven’t required this much interaction with people. Most notable of all, there’s been no man like Rory with his muscles and perfect smile and good heart.
“Rory, I can’t go to the doctor,” I say, pulling my hand from his. “I don’t have insurance. I can’t afford the ER.”
If anyone knew who my parents were, my statements would be laughable but since they haven’t been a part of my life for years, everything I’m saying is true. I’ve even had to ration my asthma medication to make it stretch.
My words settle between us. I know he heard them, but he’s already gathered my skateboard and backpack, and is walking off with the dogs.
“My Jeep’s this way.”
“Rory,” I call, but he keeps walking.
The only reason I follow is because I can’t let him take the dogs. I need to get them back home.
“Did you hear what I said?” I rush after him.
He stops in front of a deep green Jeep Rubicon. The windows, top and doors are taken off. It’s a rugged vehicle in a warm green that suits him, which is a weird thing to think about a guy I barely know.
He sets my stuff in the trunk, then loads the dogs into the backseat before turning in my direction.
“Medical services are on me. I’m the one who made you fall.”
The pain etched on his handsome face makes my chest squeeze. I don’t like it. Even though I’m the one hurt, I’d do anything for him to stop looking at me like that.
His large hand cradles my hurt wrist. Leaning closer, he brushes his lips delicately against my wrist bone.
“Please, Wildflower.” This time when he says the nickname, my hackles don’t rise. It’s got to be the endorphins released from my injured wrist putting me in this woozy, punch-drunk state. “We need to get it looked at. At least an X-ray to rule out a fracture or broken bone.”
“Is there any point in arguing with you?” I ask.
“No.”
Still in a daze, his firm hands wrap around my waist to hoist me up into the passenger seat. He reaches across my body to buckle the seat belt and the scent of him, laundry soap, sea salt and masculine sweat, invades my space.
“I could have done that myself.” It comes out as a faint whisper.
“I know. You’re incredibly capable.” He grins, as if he knows other people acknowledging that I’m competent is my jam.
Chef, Lulu, and Scout sit obediently on the floor, while Rory sets Cali on my lap, snuggling her beneath the seat belt to keep her safe.
“I’m taking you to see my team’s athletic trainer. She’ll examine your wrist.”
I nod, the throbbing pain making me more agreeable than I would normally be. The pain makes me notice unusual things about Rory. Like how his long fingers wrap around the steering wheel, leaving his thumb to slide over the front of the smooth leather.
On the drive, I can’t help but think about how hot he looks. His muscular thighs pressed against the confines of his board shorts. Big hands, long fingers.
He catches me staring and grins.
I inhale sharply. Maybe the pain is making me delirious.
We make four stops, dropping off each dog along the route, and Rory helps me get them inside and settled.
Finally, he pulls into the Coral Cove Aquatic Center parking lot and rushes to open my door.
Inside the aquatic center, the smell of chlorine hits my nose, clean and sharp.
“The athletic trainer’s office is this way.” Rory guides me through the lobby and down a hallway.
We enter a room, and inside Rory waves to a young woman with coppery blonde hair braided over her shoulder.
“Hey, Rory.” She wraps him in a big hug, before pulling back, her brows drawing down with concern. “Please tell me your knee isn’t bothering you.”
“It’s not me.” His palm, warm and secure on my lower back, ushers me forward. “My friend fell. She hurt her wrist. I hurt her wrist, and I was hoping you’d look at it.”
There’s a clearing of a throat, and the woman at the front desk to our right shakes her head. “Rory, she’s not a member of the swim club. She’s not under our trainers’ care.”
“I need you to make an exception.” Rory’s usual friendly grin is replaced by a hard line. “Please, Winnie.”
Winnie waves off the woman at the front desk. “I got this, Karen.”
We follow Winnie to a room down the hall and she shuts the door behind us.
“I’m Elowyn Mitchell, the Carolina Current’s athletic trainer. Everyone calls me Winnie.”
“Nice to meet you.” I shake her hand with my uninjured one.
She grabs a form and places it on a clipboard.
“Your name?”
My eyes flick to Rory’s. I could run out of this room right now, drive my van to another location and pretend none of this ever happened, but my wrist is throbbing. It’s like it has its very own pulse. So, I have to stay and see about this injury, and that involves sharing my name.
“Summer.”
At my admission, Rory’s smile finds its home again.
“Summer?” Winnie prods.
“Summer McKee,” I relent, my lips threatening a smile at the sheer glee in Rory’s eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he masterminded the whole thing just to learn my name.
“Are you happy now?” I ask once Winnie has gathered my information and stepped out of the room.
He shakes his head, that heartachingly pained look on his face again.
“Not until you’re all fixed up.”
Winnie returns a few minutes later and starts the exam.
“How’d this happen?” Winnie asks while gently rotating my wrist as part of the exam.
Rory presses his lips together and I can’t help but think about our discussion earlier on the boardwalk. Big tree, fall hard.
“This giant man fell off a skateboard he had no business riding and crushed me in the process.”
Winnie shakes her head. “Boys are idiots.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m right here,” Rory says, waving his arms in mock exasperation.
“We’re aware,” Winnie replies, tossing a knowing grin in my direction.
After the X-ray, which was negative for a fracture or broken bone, Winnie fits me for a brace. “This should be worn day and night for one week. Take ibuprofen to help with pain and reduce swelling.
“Rory, don’t you have practice now?” she asks, guiding my fingers into the brace before velcroing it closed below my wrist.
He glances at the clock on the wall. “Shit. Yeah, I do.”
Running a hand through his wavy hair, he stands. “But I can wait a few more minutes.”
That’s what he says, but I can see a panic stealing over his features.
Winnie tsks. “If you’re late, Owens is going to have your ass.”
“You should go.” I nudge.
“I hate leaving you like this.”
Winnie sighs between us. “You two are adorable.”
“We are nothing of the sort,” I scoff, trying to gain some perspective. “And I’m fine. I probably don’t even need this.” I lift my arm with the brace and shake it around, but my wrist still protests.
“Yeah, you do,” Winnie argues. “At least until the swelling goes down.”
Rory turns to Winnie. “Can you make sure she gets home?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.” Rory drops a quick kiss to her cheek, before turning for the door.
For a second, I watch him go, broad shoulders and muscular back rippling against his t-shirt, but the fact that he kissed Winnie on the cheek and didn’t even say goodbye has me quickly dropping my gaze, pretending the brace suddenly needs adjusting. I feel silly for wanting his attention and even more stupid for making myself feel bad that I didn’t get it.
Nothing about this situation should matter because Rory and I are barely acquaintances, but my chest is doing that pinching thing again. It’s bringing unwelcome awareness that despite my brain’s attempt to override it, the content of my left ribcage is having a strong reaction to Rory.
A moment later, there’s a squeak on the tile floor.
“Oh, and Summer?”
I look up to find Rory abruptly stopping at the door before turning and walking back toward me. I swear he looks like he’s going to wrap me up in his arms and keep me forever.
“Yeah?” I say so casually, even I’m impressed by my cool indifference. He takes my sprained wrist in his hand, and kisses my fingers, the only thing exposed by the brace. Warm, soft lips tickle my fingertips.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
It’s annoyingly sweet. I want to melt into a puddle, then scream at him for making me weak. But there’s no point in any of that because he’s already rushing out the door.
After Winnie finishes up the paperwork for my visit, like she had assured Rory, she offers to drive me home.
Leaving the aquatic center with Winnie, we don’t go out the main entrance I came in before, but instead, she navigates me down a long hallway past one of the indoor pools, then out a side door that opens to the largest outdoor pool I’ve ever seen.
The lanes are occupied by swimmers. The sound of water splashing is almost rhythmic.
It’s impossible to pick out which swimmer is Rory. They all look the same in white swim caps and dark goggles, moving steadily down the lane, their strong, muscular arms angling out of the water. It’s hypnotizing.
“There’s Rory.” Winnie points. “Lane four.”
When my eyes land on him, I discover I was wrong. They don’t all look alike. Now that I’ve got eyes on him, Rory stands out. He’s a masterpiece. A human work of art as he slices through the water. When he turns his head to breathe, the corner of his mouth reaches upward, seeking out oxygen. It’s like watching a machine operate. Every stroke is effortless.
“My brother, Eli, is next to him.” Winnie keeps talking to me about the other swimmers in the water but it’s impossible to take my eyes off Rory. I saw Rory’s chest and abs on the beach, the strength and chiseled definition of them. It’s clear every muscle has its task and is trained for peak performance.
I wish I had my sketchbook. I could spend all day sketching his movements. The human form in movement is something I’ve been working on. Beachscapes and still life come naturally to me, but capturing movement like this is where I want to improve in my art.
“—so that’s how they became the Carolina Current swim club.”
I realize Winnie has been talking to me the entire time I’ve been watching Rory swim.
“Cool.” I shrug, trying to slip back into my mask of indifference, but it doesn’t fit the way it did earlier. It feels too tight now, putting pressure against my temples.
“How long will they swim for?” I ask.
“This practice is typically two hours. And that’s just time in the water. There’s dryland, too. And their weight training program.”
“What’s dryland?” I ask.
“Mobility exercises, stretching, core work.”
It makes sense that a swimmer would be building muscles with weight training and working on flexibility as well, but I’d never thought about a swimmer training by doing anything but swimming.
“My car’s this way.” She motions toward a gate on the far side and I follow her through it. “Where am I taking you?”
“The Salty Pirate Café.”
She nods, backing the car out of the parking spot.
“God, their hush puppies are to die for.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty good.” I play with the strap on the brace.
“You must be new to Coral Cove.”
“I’ve been here a few months.”
“Where do you live?” She asks.
“RV park. I have a camper van.”
“That’s cool. I’ve always wanted to travel more. I bet you love being able to pick up and move at a moment’s notice.”
“It’s nice.” When I’d fixed it up and left Tennessee, the freedom of it had been the only thing I wanted, but after a few years on the road, I’d been craving more consistency. That’s when I found Coral Cove.
“Are you going to be staying in Coral Cove for long?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
After a short drive, Winnie pulls up to the lot at the back of the restaurant.
“Thanks for the ride.” I start to get out of the car, but she calls me back.
“Summer, wait.”
“Yeah?”
She pushes her sunglasses up to the top of her head. “Woman to woman, I have to warn you about Rory.”
My chest constricts at her edgy tone. A rush of displeasure that Rory, who I don’t know at all but can only see as being a good guy, might have a bad reputation.
On one hand, it doesn’t matter what she has to say about Rory. I don’t need anyone to warn me about the guy. My parents’ toxic marriage and my ex-boyfriend, are all the warning I need to stay far away from relationships.
The other part of me is curious about what she has to say.
“Yeah?” I ask.
She sighs dramatically. “Rory Shields is a chronic over-helper. You drop something? He’s picking it up before you even realize it’s fallen. Struggling with a grocery bag? He’s already carrying it. Feeling cold? Boom…he’s wrapping you in his hoodie before you can protest. It’s relentless.”
I get it. Winnie wants me to know that Rory is just a nice guy. I’m not special and he’s super helpful to everyone. That’s fine.
“So, you’re saying Rory bringing me to get my wrist checked out is totally normal and to not read into it because he’d do this for anyone?”
Her lips twitch before they split into a mischievous grin.
“Oh, no. He definitely likes you. And the way he looks at you?” She fans herself. “I had to splash some cold water on my face after I did your X-ray.”
I blink, thrown off by the shift in the conversation.
“We should hang out sometime.” She glances at her watch. “I’ve got to get back, but I’ll have Rory give you my number.”
Before I can protest, Winnie pulls out of the lot and onto the street.
He definitely likes you.
What is this, fourth grade? Check yes or no?
Pfft.
I glance down at my wrist. Wildflower, for your tattoo , he’d said.
I shake the thought loose and walk into work.