The sound of Hadley taking a sharp breath has my attention snapping to her.
“It’s okay. I’m okay,” she says. “Just a wrong step.”
I bend and place a hand beneath her legs, the other at her back, and scoop her into my arms. Her body is rigid, eyes wide with alarm.
“What are you doing?” she objects.
“I told you I’d carry you if it started hurting.”
“It was one wrong step,” she protests, planting a hand on my chest and pushing away.
“Because the ground’s uneven.”
“You can’t carry me.”
I raise a brow. “Watch me.”
“Nolan. This is ridiculous. I feel ridiculous.”
“Keep moving, and I’ll throw you over my shoulder.”
She pulls her head back fractionally. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
She doesn’t.
I make it to the statue where we both reach forward, rubbing the toe to mark our completion.
“Where are you going?” Hadley asks as I pass those celebrating and cut between two buildings.
“The facility.”
“The what?”
“Someone needs to look at your ankle.”
“It’s okay. I need to find Hannah.”
I nod. “Text her. We were going to hang out anyway. Our trainer needs to look at your ankle.”
“I don’t need to see a trainer. I’ll be fine.”
I nod, continuing down the incline that takes us to the sidewalk.
“You’re not going to stop, are you?”
I snicker and shake my head. “If our little game doesn’t teach you anything else, it’s that once I get my mind set on something, there’s no stopping me.”
Her arm around the back of my neck tightens. “A product of being a middle child?”
“I’m not the middle child,” I remind her. “Four’s an even number.”
“Or maybe you and Katie are both middle children?”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
“Were you and Katie competitive growing up? Like with homework and sports and things?”