Of course he can.
I step closer, my knees brushing his as I move between them.
“Just because youcandoesn’t mean I want you to.” I hold his eyes with mine. “If anything hurts, tell me.”
The intensity in his stare doesn’t fade, but something in him eases as he nods. It looks an awful lot like trust.
Before I start, I check the gash again, making sure it’s closed and healed, then carefully swipe an antiseptic wipe over the area.
Emmett’s eyes flick to mine.
“You’re sure I didn’t overstep before?” he asks.
“I promise,” I assure him. “Just . . . I want you to be careful, okay?”
His hand brushes my leg when he shifts on the stool, and the air stalls in my lungs.
We’re entirely too close for this to feel professional.
The last stitch slides free, and Emmett exhales. “Done?”
My mouth curves. “What? Can’t wait to get away from me?”
The look he gives me could melt steel.
I lift a cotton swab with ointment on it, layering it over the red line of healing skin. Taking his face in my palm, I tip his chin up just slightly, checking the area.
“Now we’re done.”
He leans in. It’s only an inch, but it’s enough to make the air between us crackle.
“You could stick around,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to my lips. “Watch the game. Make sure I don’t pass out from sheer boredom.”
“Is it that bad?”
One shoulder lifts. “Having company might not be the worst thing.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Whoa there. Settle down. I’m not sure I can handle all the flattery.” Biting my lip, I glance over his shoulder to the TV. “The Bandits are winning . . .”
“They won’t.” A devastating grin split his handsome face. “The Diablos always come back.”
Knowing I earned that smile makes it all the better.
It hits me, not for the first time, but maybe the clearest.
Emmett doesn’t feel temporary when we’re like this.
I should put space between us—go back downstairs and read my book. That’s what the emotional adult I claim to be would do.
But the crowd noise has my gaze drifting back to the TV before going back to him.
He’s still—waiting to see what I’ll do, making something inside me give.
“Can we order pizza?”
“I’ll never say no to that.”
While I get comfy on the couch, Emmett orders the pizza. It’s mundane, and shouldn’t make me feel any sort of way, but I like being here with him, like this.
