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"I'm fine. I can clean up at home."
"Let me see."
"I don't need your help."
"You're bleeding."
Dammit. He's right. My knee is scraped and bleeding.
His eyes find mine. He raises a brow as if to ask permission. This time, I nod.
Miles's fingers skim my skin as he inspects my wrists. Then they're on the tops of my knees. The gentle touch sends heat flooding through my body.
I wasn't lying to Miles. I don't date. Everything in my life is arranged around getting into medical school. Between studying and my part-time job, I have barely any time and energy. It's hard enough keeping my life on track without adding a boyfriend to the mix.
I've never met a guy who seemed worth the trouble. I've certainly never had a guy's touch stir this kind of desire.
I want those hands under my clothes.
My heart thuds against my chest. It's terrifying how badly I want those hands under my clothes.
Miles looks up at me. "This is a bad scrape. You have a first aid kit?"
"I can take care of it."
"I bruised plenty of knuckles in my day. I'm bandaging that. Either we do it at your apartment, or we go to a twenty-four-hour pharmacy."
Going back to my place will be faster. I nod fine and follow him to the car.
He slides into the driver's seat. "Where do you live?"
"Sawtelle and Idaho. The complex on the left."
He drives without any need for directions. After a few quick turns, we pull into the garage. But the gate to the underground garage is closed. Damn. The only way to unlock it is by inputting the code and my landlord can't stand tenants giving it out to strangers.
That means I have to lean over Miles to do this.
I motion to the window. "You mind?"
He nods and rolls the window down.
Here goes nothing. I undo my seatbelt and lean over him, planting one hand on the windowsill. It brings my body over his, my chest over his mouth. His soft, slow exhale sends shivers down my spine.
His lips are inches from my chest. I want those inches gone, want my blouse and bra gone. Want his mouth on my skin.
I've never felt like that before.
Ever.
I input the code as quickly as possible. There. The garage door opens. I slide back into my seat and direct him to my open parking spot.
Now there's nothing left to do but lead him to my apartment.
Just me and the rock star playboy, alone in my apartment.
What could possibly go wrong?
* * *
