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“I —”
“Jayce?”
Something about the sound of my name on his tongue made me honest.
“Yeah. But it’s fine, like I said.”
I took the box of supplies to the mirror in the hall and started cleaning my cuts.
“How hurt are you?” Clay’s insistent footsteps were right behind me, and when he tried to take the bandage, I gently brushed his hands away.
“It’s not that bad.” Even if my ribs were aching and I knew there’d be a bruise, I could breathe deep enough to guess they weren’t broken.
“How hurt are you?” He tried to take the bandage again, but I stuck it on before he could. “And why won’t you let me help you?”
“I’ve patched myself up alone since I was a kid.” I chose my words carefully, trying not to reveal too much. “I’m good at it.”
I frowned and took a step back from him, then pulled my shirt over my head. Clay gasped, so there was definitely a bruise. I didn’t look away from him as I carefully probed the spot, sliding my fingers along the line of my ribs to make sure everything was intact. When I was satisfied, I turned and showed him my body in a slow circle.
“Jayce…”
“I’m fine.”
“How is that fine?” Clay hissed the words softly and stepped closer to me again. When his hand came out, I went still as his fingers splayed over the welt on my side. The heat of his skin felt like a balm, and I couldn’t stop my lids from fluttering shut at the touch. “Why did this happen?”
“You don’t defy Marcus Holden without tasting blood. I blew my cover —”
“To save me.” He sounded frustrated at the fact.
“Yeah,” I opened my eyes. “To save you. I’d have taken twice the beating and still do it again.”
Clay looked at me, and his eyes were so wide I saw the tiny flecks of green in the depths of the brown. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” That was a lie. “It feels like I know you… it feels like…” I winced slightly when his palm pressed harder against my skin, but I recognized the movement — he was checking my ribs. The soft, soothing sensation of his thumb tracing the pain was worth the sting. “It feels like you’re supposed to be here.”
I wasn’t stupid enough to tell him I’d dreamed of him before. I wasn’t going to freak him out by making him think I was a stalker… even though I technically had watched him.
Clay stepped into me, and I took a step back. I moved until my shoulders pressed against the dark wall of my living room, but he followed me with his intentions burning clear in his gaze. Slender fingers tickled a path from the wound on my side, chasing goosebumps across my chest.
“Let me repay you.” He said it softly, his voice a little husky, his eyes all for my busted lip.
“I —” He leaned in before I had a chance to protest, and his tongue met the corner of my mouth where it split. The sting of pain was instantly washed away by the heat of sensation… which was exactly why I had to stop him.
I let myself smooth my fingers along his jawline and into his hair, then I tugged gently — it craned his neck and made him look up at me through honey colored lashes, so I could see that his pupils were slightly blown.
But I could still hear his words.
Let me repay you.
This wasn’t a transaction. He wasn’t a thing to be bought, and I didn’t want to fuck him because he felt like it was the only way he’d keep his worth.
“It’s fine.” My nails trailed through his hairline, smoothing curls and dragging on his scalp to soothe the sting where I’d pulled. I moved away from him before he did something else to push me over the edge and headed to the kitchen.
I didn’t see it, but I heard the loud exhalation — was he frustrated? I was, too, but I was going to hide it.
“Why do you keep pushing me away? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Loaded question.
