He was always helping me. It was going to get old for him soon enough. I was going to become a burden.
“You’ve got your own work to catch up on. I’ll be fine,” I assured him.
Rock just chuckled behind me. I didn’t glance back at him. My cheeks were warm and I wasn’t even sure why.
He stepped around me and opened the truck door for me, then held out his hand. I glanced down at his hand and frowned.
“Take my hand. I need to help you up so you don’t strain yourself,” he explained, clearly amused.
I wasn’t sure touching his hand was a good idea. My heart was already all fluttery and my face was warm. Rock was suddenly causing my body to react in crazy ways. “Okay,” I said almost too softly.
When I placed my hand in his much larger one, his closed around mine, sending warm shivers through my body from the contact. I was losing it.
“You good?” he asked me when I still hadn’t moved my hand from his once I was seated in his truck.
I jerked my hand away, feeling like an idiot, and nodded. “Yeah, thanks,” I muttered, and didn’t look at him.
He didn’t move right away, and I was finding it hard to breathe knowing he was looking at me. Finally I turned my gaze to see him staring at my legs. I glanced down and realized that my shorts had ridden up even shorter than they were. I had to get some bigger shorts. Not getting exercise was not helping me lose weight. I tried to tug on them. Rock cleared his throat and closed my door.
I took several calming breaths before he opened his door and climbed inside. I didn’t have a shirt loose enough to cover the fact that my ribs were wrapped either. My clothes seemed to be shrinking.
He started the truck and Tim McGraw’s voice filled the space. Rock grinned and reached over to turn down the music. “I blare music to wake up in the morning,” he explained.
I nodded. “Good idea.”
He looked at me a moment longer than necessary, but I wouldn’t meet his gaze. I was afraid my feelings were all over my face, and I needed to figure this out and protect that. Rock wasn’t asking for something more with me. He wanted to be friends and I had said yes. I needed to respect that.
“Did you sleep good?” he asked.
I had. The pain medicine I had to take at night to rest knocked me out. “Yeah. I slept good. You?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I guess. I sleep better in your room.”
Oh. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. So I studied my hands in my lap.
He didn’t say anything more. We rode in uncomfortable silence the rest of the way to school. Miraculously, there was a parking spot empty near the front. It was where he always parked. To the right of us was Marcus Hardy’s truck, and to the left was Dewayne Falco’s Mustang. It was like the three of them had parking spots that had been assigned. No one ever parked here but them.
“We’re here,” he said, stating the obvious. “Stay put. I’m helping you down.”
I did as I was told.
Rock opened my door and reached for my book bag, then slung it over his shoulder before holding out his hand for me.
Once again I slipped my hand in his, and he held on to me tightly as he eased me down from the truck. I only winced once, and Rock’s hand squeezed mine when I did. “You okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“Yes. I’m fine. Thank you,” I replied.
He didn’t let go of my hand as he closed the truck door. I waited for him to release me, but he didn’t. Instead his fingers threaded through mine. “Let’s go,” he said, and we headed for the entrance.
Excitement and confusion were battling inside me. Why was he holding my hand like this? He knew I didn’t need his help walking.
A whistle startled me, and I looked up to see Preston Drake grinning from ear to ear as his eyes zeroed in on our hands. I loosened my grasp, preparing for Rock to drop my hand like it was on fire. Instead he squeezed it tightly. “He’s a bitch-face sometimes. Ignore him. He means well,” Rock said, leaning down to me. Then he winked.
Rock winked at me.
What was going on?
“Finally got the girl. ’Bout damn time. You’ve worked hard enough for it,” Preston said with a smug grin on his face.