“Don’t worry. I know how to fix that thing.” I reached for the waistband of his shorts and tried to pull them down. “I’m good at it.” “What? Wait! Liz, no!” Jerking away from me, Hugh bolted to the opposite side of the treehouse. “What are you doing?” “I know how to fix it,” I explained, crawling back over to him. “I can make you feel better.” “No, Liz!” He held out his hand to stop me. “You can’t.”
