But she sat until her back ached, and still, the phone didn't ring.
Just then, Timothy York's gaze fell to her ankle.
Even though Summer Thorne wasn't looking at him, she could tell where his eyes had landed from the corner of her eye.
She stiffened for a moment. Before her mind could even react, her body had already instinctively tried to pull away.
She stood up.
But the moment she pushed herself up, the pain in her ankle was far worse than she'd expected, and Summer Thorne couldn't help but flinch.
The next moment, Timothy York's hand was on her arm, steadying her.
Even through her thin sweater, the warmth of his palm pressed clearly against her skin.
Summer Thorne quickly took a step back, putting distance between them.
Timothy York watched her retreat, his hand hovering in midair for a long moment before he finally lowered it.
"How did you hurt your ankle?"
He wasn't sure why, but he asked anyway.
"Just a sprain," Summer Thorne replied, not wanting to linger.
