Page 9 of Step Brother Bear

I clench my fists. “Because if you die from sepsis, it will make my room smell since our walls are apparently made of tissue paper.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll jump out the window right before I kick the bucket.”

“Wow, how generous and very unlike you.”

“You’re right, never mind. I’ll die in here and haunt you in my afterlife.” He attempts to shut the door again, but I push my way in. “Seriously, just let me help.”

He studies me for a moment. “Fine.” He charges toward his bed and drops to a seated position. His sweaty muscles glisten in the low light from his bedside lamp. “I’m trying to clean my bandage and put a shirt on.” He attempts to cross his arms but winces.

I eye the ointment and clean gauze on the dresser next to me, grabbing the items before walking to his window and pulling up the blinds. He seethes in pain when the sunlight pours in. “What are you, a vampire?”

He chuckles, a strange sound that sends my stomach sideways. “Something like that.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to burn for a bit because I need light.” I sit next to him and reach for his shoulder. He jerks back as if I’m about to hit him. “Jesus Christ, does it hurt that bad?”

“Yes,” he says, clenching his teeth to mask the pain.

I scoot closer, leaning over him. “Well, maybe stop working out and doing other things that cause it to worsen.” I can’t help the heating of my cheeks as I touch his bandage, gently pulling up the edges.

“I would if I could.”

I pull back the adhesive strip, revealing the gunshot wound, bloody and ripped at the edges. I hiss. “You’re lucky I’m fine with blood because this looks like shit.”

“It feels like shit.”

I spray the brown liquid on the clean gauze and slowly position it over his wound.

“Fuck!” he yells, muscles straining.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to hurt you.” I reach for the tape and carefully adhere the white material to his skin.

An uncomfortable silence passes over us as I carefully press down all the edges of his bandage. He clears his throat. “I wanted to apologize.” I nearly pass out from shock, and my eyes widen as I search him. There’s so much he could mean. He clears his throat, continuing, “For the other night, what happened in my room…”

I want him to stop talking, his words and the memory already heating me. “It’s fine.” I shake my head and continue to work on his bandage.

His expression pulls taut as I press a little harder. “I’m not myself lately, and with my injury, it’s making it hard for me to think clearly.”

“Whatever.” The bandage is on, and it gives me a moment to realize my position. I’ve been so worried about hurting him that I haven’t noticed I’m practically kneeling in his lap, straddling one large tattooed thigh, hovering above a black inky stream. I catch his tented athletic shorts. I gasp, darting back to his gaze, but it’s too late. He’s already caught me. His lips curve into a soul-crushing smile. My whole body burns, and I’m mortified, yet I don’t pull away.

“See something you like?” His tone is a hushed whisper. His lips part, and it’s like a dense gas has replaced the air in the room.

“Shut the fuck up,” I say, failing horribly at playing innocent. I try to pull back, but his hands find the small of my back, keeping me in place.

“You’re such a pussy.” The words roll off his lips.

“What happened to your recent apology from the other night?”

“Yeah, still sorry, but obviously you’re curious about what’s beneath my shorts and can’t even admit it to yourself.”

“I’m not.”

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“Then get off of me.”

“I’m trying to.”