I back up a step but catch my ankle wrong and start to stumble.
In a flash, Miles reaches out. With his arms around my waist, he catches me and then brings me against him so that I am pressed to his chest.
“So careless,” he grumbles. The words reverberate in his chest under my ear. “Have you forgotten that your ankle is still injured?”
My ankle doesn’t hurt all that much anymore, though I suppose I have been still favoring it since I twisted it that night I met Miles.
Suddenly, Miles shifts his weight, drops one of his arms lower, and scoops me up into a princess carry.
People that stopped paying attention to us immediately look at us again as Miles creates this scene. My cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“Miles,” I start to plead.
“If I put you down, you’ll only try to run away and i
