Chapter Twenty-Two

I glance over my shoulder, scanning the parking lot again but there's no sign of Mark. Only Chris with a collection of hard-core climbers surrounding him in a ring, firing questions at him. I grumble under my breath at the small crowd in the lot. The small hiking group had become the busiest one of the year all thanks to Chris contacting the club and offering to come in for a few guided hikes and talks.

I adjust my position, checking the lot again as I tighten my crossed arms. Standing still in the wintery chill leaves me shivering.

Mark's car finally pulls into the lot.

I watch in surprise as Mark gets out, followed by Bethany and Louis. Louis and Mark chat by the bonnet as Mark swivels his head, looking around. His gaze lingers on Chris and his group, raking over each member before continuing on. His eyes meet mine and he lifts his hand to wave. Mark glances back at Louis, says something, and then trots across the lot to my spot.

My stomach tightens in unease and I frown when he reaches me. "Mark, it's icy."

"The city salt parking lots," Mark says.

"They clearly didn't do this one," I reply.

Mark's gaze darts down to my hands. I have them tucked into my armpits for warmth. "Here." He shrugs off his windbreaker.

"No, you'll need it."

"I'm fine," he insists. "I don't have to wait in the cold for my late boyfriend to show up. Sorry about that. With Bethany and Eddie bickering at the apartment, I'm surprised we made it at all." Mark glances around. "Where's Tommy? I figured he'd want to tag along."

"Someone called in sick at work this morning, so he's covering for them." I keep my hands securely tucked away as Mark tries to get me into the windbreaker. He's undaunted by my objections.

"It'll look ridiculous on me," I finally say.

"It'll look like you're wearing your boyfriend's clothes. It'll be cute and sexy."

I stare up at Mark, not able to feel my nose because of the cold, and my arms loosen.

Mark grins victoriously as he helps me into the jacket. "When are we starting?" he asks, eyeing the group by Chris.

"Most of the group has started already. I was waiting for you."

"And Chris was waiting for you," Mark finishes, understanding. "Shall we head off then?"

As he asks, the two he'd left behind at the car join us, equipped with trail maps. Louis offers one to Mark, and Bethany leans against the post next to me and holds hers out for me to see. There are a few different trails marked out, all varying in incline and distance.

"Which one are we doing?" she asks. Despite being bundled up in fluffy sweaters and jackets, her nose is bright pink. I glance sideways at Mark, appreciating how good he looks in a simple fleece and cargo pants. The cold doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Whichever one you feel like," I say.

"I'm assuming you're the expert, given your brother." Bethany glances across the lot to Chris. "A total ten, by the way. How old is he?"

"Thirty-one. And he's in a relationship," I lie.

Bethany looks around herself, and then frowns.

Mark grins. "No point in checking anyone else out when Eddie's not here to wind up?" His tone is playful.

"It does defeat the entire purpose of it, yes," Bethany sighs. "He was such a baby this morning." She fixes an unimpressed stare on Mark. "I told you to say something to him so he'd stop sulking and come with us."

Mark shrugs. "I'm not his keeper."

I study the side of his face. He probably didn't invite Eddie because he didn't want to make me uncomfortable. I want to say that he could have but honestly, I'm not sure I'm there yet. I think it'll be easier for me to be around him when it's not lining up with an activity that's going to have me feeling vulnerable.

"Should we do one of the mid-range ones?" Louis breaks the silence. He glances at Bethany as he suggests it. "You won't find that too hard, will you?"

"Why? You think I can't handle the harder trails because I'm a girl?" Bethany challenges.

Louis reddens as he casts her an innocent smile. "No?"

"Why does that sound like a question?" she follows up.

Mark meets my eyes. "What do you think?"

"You guys can do whichever you like, but Chris made me promise to do the beginner trail," I say. I don't mention that Terry told me I had to start small or risk getting set back months in my recovery.

"Short and sweet," Mark says with an easy grin.

I grunt. "I doubt it'll feel like either of those."

"Oh," Bethany says, realisation dawning in her eyes. "Is that why you wouldn't make up with the guys? You're injured, and can't play sports? And they ignored your texts…ah, I see."

"Pretty much," I tell her. "You don't have to tag along with me," I say, glancing at her, then Louis. "The short trail won't be a challenge at all for you guys." I throw a glance in Mark's direction, to which he raises his eyebrows.

"It'll be a challenge for me," Bethany says.

I look past her to see Chris approaching us.

"Mark," Chris greets as he reaches us. "The short trail only," he directs the order at Mark.

Mark nods. "Kyle just said that."

Chris offers him a piece of paper. "My number, in case of an emergency. Call if there are any issues."

"Will do," Mark says. He tucks the piece of paper into his pocket. I narrow my eyes at the two of them.

Chris looks at me. "If your leg starts to hurt—"

"I know, I know," I interrupt. I don't need a rehash of the talk we had this morning.

Chris glances at Mark. "If you notice him in pain, text me."

"Chris, get going," I say, unamused.

Chris goes to the group waiting for him at the start of the trial and they head off. I give Mark an unimpressed stare. "You two are suddenly getting along now?"

Mark shrugs. "Guess so."

I don't think Mark appreciates that Chris telling him to keep an eye on me was the highest approval he could get. I'll take extra care not to push myself so that Chris can trust Mark more.

"Shall we go?" I ask.

We set off, and I hang back so I'm not leading the way with everyone's eyes on me as I get my bearings. I know that Terry warned me, but part of me expected the trail, which is a gentle slope, to be a piece of cake but it isn't. My thigh muscles—or the lack thereof—tire quickly. A couple of minutes in I shrug off Mark's jacket and offer it back to him.

Mark walks with me at the back of the group, half-keeping an eye on me, half-watching our surroundings.

"It's pretty," he says. The trail winds through forests, and the trees block the city from view.

"It is," I agree. "Once I finish up this year, I want to find a spot like this in the countryside, with trails and the outdoors around me. Ideally next to the beach, since swimming is one of the exercises I can do without stressing my body." Although I'll need to be confident in my mobility for that plan. If I leave the city I won't have easy access to services.

"Are there swimming prosthetics you can wear?" Mark asks, curiously. "Or do you take it off for going in the water?"

"I couldn't wear this one," I say. "But yes, there are swimming prosthetics. Legs and fins."

Mark's gaze jumps to me. "Fins?" he repeats.

I nod. "A company in Sweden specialises in them. Chris is already on to them about getting me fitted. And he's contacted companies that specialise in running blades, biking blades, climbing feet…I'm going to have to get used to seeing the prosthetic, because none of those look anything like a real foot. And I can't go for a run with loose trousers down to my heel."

Mark glances down at my left leg. My pants are tucked into my boots, with the high ankle support of the boot hiding the prosthetic inside. However, if you look closely, or know what it is under the material of my trousers, you can see the concave part where my calf muscle should be. From the outside, it looks like I have one deteriorated leg.

"You can see why I wear jeans," I note. The shape of them hides all of that on a day-to-day basis.

"When are you getting fitted for the exercise prosthetics?" Mark asks.

I grunt. "When the swelling goes down."

"Swelling?" Mark's eyes narrow.

"Relax. I got the clearance for today from my specialist and Chris."

"I thought your leg looked okay when I saw it," Mark says unhappily.

I roll my eyes. "The first time you saw it was after I'd fallen. It was already swollen by that point. Even I didn't notice," I add.

"You wouldn't notice anyway; you never look at it," Mark points out.

"I notice when it hurts."

"Hey!"

I glance up. Bethany and Louis are several lengths ahead, with Louis waving at us. I return my attention to walking, realising the ambling pace I'd been keeping. We catch up to them, pick our way through the different forks in the trail, and I'm beat at the halfway mark.

"Ugh," I grunt, sitting on a flat rock, and Bethany promptly lies out next to me. We're both panting while Louis and Mark aren't so much as breaking a sweat, never-mind winded. I dig out my energy drink and, despite knowing I'll give myself a stitch, I gulp it down.

Mark drifts closer to me, talking on his phone. "He's guzzling down his drink," Mark says. "Yes, it's very erotic."

I choke. My drink burns my nose and I spit some of it out as I cough.

"Oh crap," Mark curses. "Call you back."

He kneels next to me and pats my back, cringing as he apologises over and over.

"What the hell, Kyle?" Bethany says, disgusted.

She shakes spit-out energy drink off her hands with her nose scrunched. She then wipes her hands off on my back. Fair.

"It's Mark's fault," I croak.

"It is. I'm sorry," Mark says, sounding devastated.

I glare at him. "Why would you say that? It was Chris, wasn't it?"

"It's important he knows where I stand," Mark says, though with a guilty look. "I didn't mean for you to choke."

My eyes water. Swallowing energy drink into my lungs isn't a pleasant experience. "He was starting to like you," I say.

"He's still testing me."

"That was a fail as far as I'm concerned," I say.

Mark cringes. "I consider it the same, too. Here." He offers me his water.

The only silver lining of it all was that Louis was out of earshot for Mark's remark.

Louis drifts closer. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm good," I answer, hoarse.

"I'm dead tired," Bethany says.

Louis stands at the base of the rock, staring down at her. "Want an energy bar?" he offers.

"I'll be sick if I do," she says back. "Is there an elevator we can ride down?" She groans and smacks my back. "Call your brother. Tell him you need an airlift."

"Should I?" I wonder. "He probably has the local rescue team on speed dial."

"Come on, come on," Louis insists. He offers his hands to her. Sighing, Bethany reaches up and he helps her to her feet.

I follow suit, wincing.

Mark's gaze sharpens on me.

"Don't even think about it," I warn. "It's my muscles aching, nothing else." There is a little else, but it reminds me of the soreness when I started using my prosthetic for the first time.

"Are you sure?" Mark eyes me. "Because I could probably carry you down if I need to."

I snort. He'd done enough carrying me around that I don't doubt out.

"So that's why you've been doing so much weightlifting this month," Bethany remarks, a teasing note in her voice.

I raise an eyebrow, casting a questioning look at Mark, who raises his chin and looks unashamed. My lips fold into a smile. "Really, now? Maybe I should let you carry me down so your work doesn't go to waste."

We begin our descent, and I find myself stumbling a lot more. The prosthetic jolts on the uneven terrain, and I grab onto Mark often as I stumble.

Bethany casts a worried look over her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," I say.

Mark is worried, too, but gives me an encouraging smile when I look at him. "It's the joint," I explain. "I'm used to this prosthetic on flat surfaces, but the last time I was climbing down a trail, I had an actual ankle. This doesn't have as much give or spring. It feels really awkward." Way more awkward than going up had been.

I stumble again and grimace at the ache in my residual limb. All the jolting is starting to hurt. I pause, take a deep breath, and face Mark.

"Piggyback?" I ask.

Mark grins. "And you made fun of me for working out."

Mark turns away from me and crouches, holding out his arms. I climb easily onto his back and wrap my arms around his shoulders securely. He cups my thighs and stands up easily. He adjusts me and angles his head back. "Comfortable?" he asks.

"I'm not too heavy?"

"Not for me," he replies.

I snort at the self-assured statement. Though I believe his confidence is well placed because Mark has no issues keeping pace with the others with me on his back. I'm sure if he wanted, he could run without any difficulties as well. I rest my chin on his shoulder, breathing in his spicy cologne. I remember what Tommy told me the other day.

"You always smell good," I say. "Even after practice and you're all sweaty." I'm stable enough that I can free a hand to mess with the curls sticking to the back of his neck.

Mark's hands tighten on my thighs. "Kyle," he warns. "Don't get me excited when I'm focusing on my footing," he warns.

I debate doing it anyway, but falling would not be fun. I replace my hand around his broad chest. "Are you coming over after?" I ask.

"Is that an invitation?"

"As long as you don't fight with Chris."

Mark hums. "No promises."