Chapter Eighteen
“Aren’t you glad I brought you here?” Chris teased as he helped Savannah into the car. “All this time you’ve been walking around on a torn anterior talo-fibular ligament!”
“Also known as a sprained ankle.”
After spending three hours in emerge and one hundred and twenty seven dollars on a damn brace, she was back to liking Chris... a lot. Her mood had dipped below sea level for a while. She was really and truly pissed at first—she’d said no doctors and he took it upon himself to bring her anyway? How could she not feel a little trampled?
But Chris’s spirits were so eternally high that she couldn’t help feeling hers elevate after fifteen minutes sitting next to him. In the waiting room, they talked about everything and nothing, they flipped through magazines and pok
