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“I kinda do need help…in the form of muscles…which you seem to have a lot of.”
Now her face was on absolute fire, but she didn’t care, because she wanted him to know that her staring was about those hot-as-fuck muscles, not the scars.
“Is that right?” he said, eyebrow arched.
Shayna rolled her eyes. “Do you need confirmation of this fact?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Doesn’t suck hearing that a pretty girl noticed, though.”
Pretty girl! That internal squee was her first—ridiculous—reaction. Clearly, his muscles made her a little stupid.
“Woman,” she said, arching a brow of her own.
A slow smile crept up his handsome face. “Okay, woman. What is it you need muscle for?”
She led him outside to her car, then popped the hatch. “Meet my new desk and chair,” she said, pointing to the boxes that filled the back. Of course the desk needed to be assembled.
He frowned. “You could’ve used mine.”
Shayna shrugged. “I didn’t want to assume. Besides, I’m messy and you’re not, so I didn’t want my stuff to drive you crazy.”
He peered down at her like he was trying to figure her out, and something about the look made her belly go on a loop-the-loop. “I appreciate that, but I still would’ve made room for you.”
Before she could think of how to respond, he tugged the heavy box out of her trunk. His biceps bulged under the strain of the desk’s weight.
She managed the box containing her new chair and followed Billy back inside.
As they dropped the furniture in her bedroom, he said, “Gimme your keys. I’m going to give you my parking spot out back while you’re here. That way you don’t have to circle looking for a space or end up having to walk a couple blocks at night.”
“That’s really sweet, Billy, but I don’t want to put you out—” Her gaze latched onto his shoulder, where a thin stream of blood oozed down his back from his cut.
He turned, saw where she was looking, and frowned. “I’m fine, Shayna.”
Could he not feel the blood? “No, it’s not that, Billy. You’re bleeding.”
His head whipped to the side, and he strained to see over his shoulder, but couldn’t. He went into her bathroom and hit the lights. “Aw, shit.”
“I got the bandages you asked for. I’ll grab them,” she said.
Without looking at her, he nodded once. She heard the frustrated breath he released as she left the room. It only took her a moment of sorting through the bag to find what she was looking for—and to stumble upon the ice cream which she t
hrew in the freezer.
When she came back up, he was waiting at the top of the steps. “I got it from here, thanks.”
“I can help—”
“I’ve got it,” he said again, not quite meeting her gaze.
“You helped me, so why can’t I help—”
“Shayna.”
“Billy.” She understood how guys like Billy and her brother thought. She’d been around enough of them to know they hated needing help. But that didn’t mean they didn’t actually need it. “You won’t be able to reach. Let me help.”
He let out a harsh breath, then turned away. “Fine.” He disappeared into his bedroom at the back of the hallway.
Shayna followed. His room was all dark blues and browns, with a big queen-sized bed dominating the space. And it was as neat as the rest of the house, with not even an errant sock on the floor. She followed the rectangle of light spilling from the master bathroom and found him gathering supplies from the medicine cabinet.
