"Of course I miss it," I said halting. "Woodfalls is my home."
He also stopped. "You could have fooled me. You hightailed it out of there almost the moment we graduated and never looked back," he added, sounding aggravated, although I couldn't imagine why. His steps were longer than before, as if he was trying to outdistance his sudden annoyance with me.
"I had things I needed to do," I stated, stalking after him as my own anger rose. What was it to him that I had been gone for a while? It's not like we were friends or anything before I left. My own aggravation made me forget to watch my step on the uneven snow-covered path. I was practically running to keep up with him when my right foot stepped into a hole that was covered in snow. My ankle buckled and the forward momentum carried me to a heap on the ground with a cry of pain. The throbbing in my ankle outweighed the fact that I had fallen in front of Grant again. I chanted a few words that would have made a sailor blush as I extracted my foot from the booby trap it had stepped in.
Without hesitation, Grant dropped the bag he was carrying so he could kneel in front of me. "Are you okay?" he asked me for the third time in two days as he wiped away a tear that rolled down my cheek.
"I'm not sure," I answered, pulling my pant leg up to inspect the damage. My boot was covering my throbbing ankle. I made a move to take it off, but Grant stopped me.
"You better keep it on. If your ankle is swelling you might not be able to get it back on," he said, looking worried.
"How much farther you think?" I asked, squinting in the snow that was falling more rapidly.
"Two miles, give or take," he said, reaching a hand out to help me up. Grasping my hand tightly, he helped me to my feet. The instant I put weight on my leg it bucked and I bit back another cry of pain.
"Mother sucking of all bad luck," I grunted, hobbling on my one good foot.
Grant looked back the way we had just come and then back to the way we still needed to go. Go figure. Only I would hurt my ankle at exactly the halfway point.
"We have to keep going. It's okay. I'm going to help you," he said, effortlessly scooping me up into his arms.
"Wait, you can't carry me," I squirmed.
"Well, I don't want to freeze my ass off out here, and this is probably faster than helping you limp the rest of the way," he said, adjusting me snugly against his chest. His rock-hard chest I might add. "I'm going to have to leave the bag. I'll have to get it later," he said, striding toward town.
I cradled my purse in my arms, feeling guilty that he was supporting my weight along with our stuff, but we had no choice. Our phones and my computer would never make it covered in snow. My throbbing ankle continued to make its presence known, but I wasn't going to lie, his arms felt absolutely dreamy wrapped around me. Without giving any conscious thought to it, I snuggled closer. He responded by tightening his arms more securely. It had been longer than I would care to admit since I had been held intimately like this. My last relationship was a disaster to say the least. We fizzled out quickly when I realized the guy I had been dating basically lied to me about everything from his job, where he went to school, where he lived. Turns out he had dropped out of college and was still living at home while he worked odd jobs. I'm still not convinced he had given me his real name. Thankfully, it had only taken me a few dates to see through his load of crap. I'd like to say my other ventures in the dating world had been more successful, but between Dan the Forever Crotch Grabber and Steve the Perpetual Xbox Gamer, my dating endeavors hadn't been very successful. Long-term relationships never seemed to be in my grasp. I felt like Taylor Swift. Minus all the money, of course.
"Are you still seeing Amanda?" I asked impulsively. The moment the words left my mouth I wished I could have retracted them. Did I really want to know about Amanda at this moment?
"Amanda?" he asked, puzzled. "No, we broke up right after you left."
My pulse felt like it galloped at his words.
"She married Stan last year."
"Oh, wow. I thought you guys were serious," I said, trying not to sound as excited as I felt. His words gave me permission to not feel so guilty for enjoying the way it felt to be held in his arms. The heady scent of his cologne swirled around me. I remembered the smell acutely. All through senior year, this had been his scent choice. Thanks to Ms. Garrison's statistics class and her insistence that we sit in alphabetical order, I had to sit behind Grant the entire year smelling it. Memories from back then flooded my mind and I fought the temptation to bury my face in his neck.
I felt him shrug before he answered. "She wanted things I couldn't give her," he answered.
Great, he had a commitment phobia. "I'm sure she would have waited until you were ready."
"I was never going to be ready," he answered.
Gah, commitment-phobe to the max. All my hopeful feelings from a few seconds ago deflated like a balloon. I wasn't looking for a guy who strings a girl along for four years and then drops her like a hot potato when she wants something more. I get the whole waiting thing, but you had to give a person something. For the first time, I actually felt bad for Amanda. Maybe I had dodged the bullet since Grant was never interested in me.
"I got it. You're a perpetual playboy," I finally analyzed, looking at the falling snow in front of us.
"Playboy? You grew up in Woodfalls, right? I'm not sure there are enough women there to be considered a playboy," he chuckled. "Besides, Fran would have my head," he added.
"How is Fran?" I asked, momentarily distracted. I had fond memories of the woman who owned the small store back home. Where most towns had fast food restaurants where all the teenagers hung out, we had Fran's. She had always welcomed us in no matter how loud we were. She made sure to have our favorite snacks on hand and allowed us to claim the front porch of the store as long as we didn't disrupt the customers coming in and out. The best thing about Fran was that she was never too busy to listen to any of us. I loved my cousin Tressa and we had been close growing up, but once I hit high school, the two-year gap between our ages made it hard for me to talk to her at times. Fran was the only one in Woodfalls who knew about my feelings for Grant. She was my shoulder to cry on, dishing out tissues and advice at the same time. Eventually, I stopped focusing of Grant and told her about my desire to leave Woodfalls so I could meet Mr. Right. Fran was never crazy about the idea and made it her goal to find me the perfect guy in Woodfalls. For months after, I would arrive at her store to find a different guy from school who Fran had somehow convinced to help her with some project she had fabricated. Her plan never worked, but she deserved an A for the effort.
"She's the same. Causing havoc and flirting with all the men in town her age and some who aren't her age. Of course, she's set her sights on Tressa's friend's dad."
"What? Brittni's dad came back?" I asked, completely floored.
"No, not Brittni. Her friend Ashton."
"Ashton? Why don't I remember her in school?"