"Put me down," I said. "This is... it's wrong!"
Being carried like a baby was not dignified. I tried to scramble away from him but almost fell and I knew I couldn't walk. Instinctively, I'd put my arm around his neck.
"You can't walk and I'm not leaving you in a puddle, so this is the only choice."
"At least pull my dress down so I'm not flashing my knickers to the world."
He stopped while I adjusted my clothes then handed me the umbrella.
"You have your hands free," he said.
I folded my arms around his neck, one hand grasping my wrist and my other holding the umbrella. His breath on my neck tickled in a way that reverberated through my body.
"I think the rain's stopped now," I said. "I can put down the umbrella."
"Best you don't. You can never tell with summer rain. It's a sneaky bugger."
But his eyes twinkled and I think he made that up just so I'd cling tighter to him. Our bodies rubbed together, so hot that in the rain that steam rose from our skin.
He carried me down the crowded street, people parting to make way like water in front of a speedboat. I giggled and leaned against him, feeling slightly drunk even though I'd not touched a drop.
Finally, we got to my house and the rain started again.
"Are your arms tired from carrying me?" I asked.
"I could carry you another 20 miles," he said. "Maybe 30. I'd never get tired of carrying you."
His t-shirt was wet and covered in dirt from where I’d pressed against him. I had to look even worse. Still, that wasn’t important.
The weight of responsibility washed away in the rain. The part of me that put the brakes on disappeared. She'd be back but while the rain lasted, I could be someone else.
He carried me through the doorway like I was a bride on her wedding night, and sat me down on the bed. Well, the mattress on the floor covered with an old Indian bedspread and chocolate-stained sheets. I noticed the smell. I'd forgotten to put the garbage out. I always forgot to put the garbage out. Not a rotten smell but just a little over-ripe. And the cobwebs on the ceiling and the holes in the carpet. But Razer didn't seem to notice.
He went to the fridge.
"Do you have any ice?" he asked. "Anything at all?"
There was half a bag of frozen peas at the back of the freezer. I had no idea where they'd come from. I had no recollection of ever buying a bag of peas. He had to hack at them with a knife to get them out. Then he wrapped the bag in a tea towel and unzipped my boots. As he slipped them off my feet, I wondered that he could be so strong and so gentle at the same time.
The shock of the ice on my ankle made me jump.
"You'll have a nasty bruise," he said.
He sat beside me and placed my ankle on his knee. He felt it to make sure it wasn’t broken. I wasn’t sure I trusted his medical knowledge but it seemed sprained to me.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yep, years of playing sports in high school. This will be painful for a couple of days but you’ll be fine after that.”
I leaned back on my elbows to support myself. The rain pattered on the roof and rivulets ran down the window panes. The ice on my ankle turned my foot numb. I squirmed.
"Don't move. You don't want to do any more damage. You'll need to keep it elevated too."
I nodded. As the throbbing in my foot lessened, I became more aware of him. The two of us in my barely functional apartment. The way his damp t-shirt clung to his body and how the rain had made his hair curl slightly.
"What happened?" he asked. "If you don't want to tell me, that's okay but you looked pretty upset."
I tried to sit up as best I could and told him what Chuck had said. Of course, I didn't tell him everything. There are things you just don't tell people.