Page 61 of Romantic

“No can do.” I honestly don’t think she’s delirious. But that’s beside the point. It’s late, there’s no time for kissing.

Annie quickly falls asleep again as I carry her down the hill. I mull over what happened. I probably shouldn’t have kissed her. But I hope some of what she said is true. I really wanted you—and you’re here! . . . I missed you. She’s fallen asleep with her head on my shoulder and her arm around my neck. My heart is pounding, my glutes are burning, and my arms are thrashed, and yet, I carry forth, on some sort of superhuman high. I reached her on time. The Universe gave me a second chance, and I didn’t fumble.

Marianne rose the next morning with recovered spirits and happy looks. —Sense and Sensibility

19

Annie

Brandon kissed me. This is my first thought upon waking in my bed at the emergency room. We kissed. And it was . . . well . . . Brandon once told me that if he kissed me, it would be a big deal. And in typical Brandon fashion, he was being excessively modest. Big deal? How about life changing.

My second thought is gratitude that he found me. Yesterday, when I finally outran my anger at Jack and came to my senses, I was already miles up the muddy trail, soaked in the rain and shivering. My sopping skirt clung to my legs, making it challenging to walk, and my sandals kept slipping on the muddy trail. The first time I fell and wrenched my left ankle, I got up and tried to continue down the trail—only to twist it again a few minutes later. The second time, I didn’t bother getting back up. I was in too much pain and utterly exhausted. I dragged myself over to a tree, where I would at least have minimal shelter, and cried miserable self-pitying tears, more upset at myself than anyone else.

It was so easy for Jack to sweep me off my feet. I had convinced myself that it was the real thing because it matched all my ideals of a sweeping romance—and all I got was a love-bombing cheater. And to top it all off, I hiked too far in sandals and a skirt—the sort of mistake a tourist makes. My foolishness has hurt so many people: my mom, my sister—and especially Pepper and Brandon.

But I can’t say how wonderful it was to see Brandon coming to my rescue on that trail. Of all the people who could have found me, it was him. And then he kissed me like he’d been waiting a thousand years for that kiss. Like he wanted me as much as I wanted him. He may have apologized for the kiss and said it was a mistake, but I don’t believe him. I can’t—not after the way he kissed me.

“Oh, you’re up!” My mom enters the room. “And how are you feeling?”

“Great,” I say, still a bit lost in my thoughts of Brandon.

“What about your ankle?” she asks with a puzzled look. “We just heard back from the doctor. It’s definitely broken.”

”Oh yeah, it really hurts. I think the pain medication is wearing off.”

“But you said you felt great?” Normally, this would be when I bring up that Brandon kissed me—my mom and I always talk about the guys I date. Usually, a first kiss is something I’m happy to share with her. But I don’t tell her about Brandon kissing me on the trail. It all feels incredibly private, and—I don’t know, sacred almost. Also, I don’t think Brandon would tell anyone about the kiss, and I find myself very protective of his wishes. Come to think of it, I’ve always felt protective of Brandon. I just never realized how much until now.

“I feel much better than I did last night.”

“You had us worried there.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run off like that. I was just so angry at Jack.”

“We all are. I can’t wrap my mind around it—he had such honest eyes! I feel terrible that I ever encouraged you to like him.”

“Well . . . no one was more fooled by him than I was. And your advice wasn’t bad. You said you wanted me to be with someone committed to me. I want that too.”

“And Brandon?” my mom asks with a look so sly I half wonder if Brandon told her about the kiss.

“What about him?”

“You should have seen him fly into action when he heard you were out in the rain. He was a man on a mission. And then he carried you down the mountain and drove you straight here.”

“I remember.” Brandon held my hand the entire drive. I was exhausted and in so much pain, but I clung to Brandon’s hand as if it were my only link to reality.

“I had to practically force him to go home and get some sleep. He wouldn’t leave the hospital until the doctor assured him you were stable.”

She gives me a searching look. I’m not sure what she sees. I’m not sure how I’m feeling. Happy when I think about Brandon. Embarrassed about my fit of temper that sent me hiking into the mountains unprepared. Humiliated about Jack and a little sad. I know the truth now. Or rather, I can admit the truth that was there all along—I love Brandon. I don’t just like him or want to date him. I love him. And it feels like something has changed between us. But it’s all so new and fragile. To talk it over would be like telling someone your birthday wish before you blow out your candles.

***

As soon as the doctor leaves the room, I take out my phone to text Brandon. I read his last text, the one I never replied to.

If you need anything, I’m here.

I shouldn’t have left him hanging. I should have replied right away. But in the end, when I needed him most, he showed up for me. I can’t help but remember all the ways Brandon has shown up for me—starting with the first day he and Pepper came to my flower crown class, and he insisted on carrying my buckets of flowers home. How could I have ever thought that Jack loved me more?

I text Brandon, letting him know that it was a clean break and that I’ll be wearing a cast for at least six weeks. Now I’m anxiously waiting for his reply. I remind myself that I need to chill. Brandon could be busy for a thousand reasons. Today, though, I’m desperate to connect with him, and waiting isn’t easy. I check my phone every few minutes until we return to Bumble Cottage two hours later with my leg in a cast.