to me, and I move my hand a little so he can see the wound before covering it again. Without a word, Ryan scoops me up in one easy movement and carries me to the office. I feel a little silly, thinking I probably could have walked, but when I try to tell Ryan, I can’t seem to spit it out. When we get to the office, Ryan sets me on the counter, waving off his employees while he retrieves a first aid kit. While my scrape is mainly superficial, there seems to be a lot of blood. Ryan gently coaxes me into taking my hand off my knee.
I study him as he gently washes my knee then applies ointment. It takes two large bandages to cover it, and as Ryan smoothes the second one on me, his fingertips on my skin make me erupt in goose bumps. I shiver, suddenly cold. With his hands on my waist, Ryan helps me off the counter. I walk gingerly to the bathroom to wash the blood off my hands and use a paper towel to wipe my shin. Ryan is putting away the first aid supplies when I walk back out. I can’t help but notice the trail of blood drips across his floor. I’m mortified. "Ryan, I am so sorry. Here, let me clean up." I reach for a roll of paper towels.
"Don’t be silly. Sit." He wheels a chair over to me. "This will just take a moment." Once he finishes, he comes back to check on me. "Are you sure you're alright?"
I nod, feeling like such an idiot having just watched him clean the floor.
"Still up for a burger?" Ryan asks.
I pout, nodding again.
"Has your injury caused you to become mute?"
I tap my index finger on my lips, trying to look like I’m thinking about it but am unable to keep a straight face. Ryan reaches out his hand to help me up. I shake my head. I will probably have a bruise, but I'm not an invalid. He checks a few things in the office before we leave. Once in his Jeep, we pass at least six burger places before Ryan stops at a kind of rundown looking place. I shoot him a concerned look.
"Don’t judge. Best burger ever. Besides I drove so you're stuck either way," Ryan says, walking around to open my door.
"Oh, I see how it is."
"They have milkshakes."
"Sign me up."
"Atta girl."
The place is seat yourself. Ryan leads us over to a booth. When I ask for a menu, Ryan laughs and points to the wall behind me. Turning, I see the back wall is one giant chalkboard-style menu.
"How cool," I say, getting up to take a closer look.
Ryan, clearly already certain of what he's ordering, stays put. The burgers are ordered by size with a million different topping options. My eyes light up when I see artichoke as one of them. I've never had them on a burger before, and it sounds so good. I walk back to our booth, ready to order. Not long after, a waitress comes over. Ryan orders a half-pound, medium cooked burger with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and banana peppers, plus a chocolate milkshake. I order a quarter-pound, medium cooked burger with the same toppings as Ryan, just artichokes instead of banana peppers and a mint chocolate chip milkshake. Ryan crinkles his nose at my topping selection and orders a basket of onion rings for us to split.
Our milkshakes come out first, topped with whipped cream and a cherry. I have to pace myself or I'll be done with my milkshake before the food comes out. While we wait, Ryan asks me about twenty times how my knee is. The last time he gets the hint when I kick him in the shin under the table doing my best to look innocent while sipping on my shake. Ryan changes the subject and starts asking me about Ohio. I consider not telling him about Jon but feel as though the omission could be considered a lie. I try not to notice how Ryan seems to stiffen when I say I live with my boyfriend. Not wanting to talk about him further, I tell Ryan about my job and the Cuyahoga River, wondering out loud if people kayak on it.
"So you'd like to go out on a yak again?"
"A yak?"
"Term of affection."
"Oh, I see. Yes, I would, even though I'm not sure I'll be able to lift my arms tomorrow, and I