Page 31 of My Bodyguard’s The Boss

“Oh, it’s not even that deep,” Austin said, his voice low and dangerous in a way it rarely got with Dominic. “You got stabbed, Dominic.”

“Lightly stabbed,” Dominic corrected.

Austin scoffed, throwing out his arms. The nurse’s office was so small his hands nearly hit the narrow walls.

“Oh, lightly! Who gives a shit, then? Slap a Band-Aid on it and walk out of here!”

“It’s fine,” Dominic said again. “It didn’t even need that many stitches. Right, ma’am?”

“Right,” the nurse said sweetly. She clipped the surgical thread at the end of his stitches—which, yes, were much better than Dominic could have done at home with a spool of floss and a curved needle—and taped a bandage in place over it.

“There,” the nurse said with a bright smile. “All done! It sounds like you had an exciting night, Mr. Wayne.”

“He got all the excitement,” Austin grumbled.

The nurse giggled. She was flushed, which Dominic sorely hoped was because she was flustered because of a crush and not because she was sick. He didn’t have time to get sick right now. He never did, but he needed to be on duty while this mess got cleared up. Austin needed him. Tonight proved that. He was going to chew Brent out as soon as he saw him again. Austin could have died because Brent was busy eating shrimp.

“Did she really try to stab you with a champagne flute?” the nurse asked eagerly. “That’s what everybody online is saying.”

“What?” Austin said, dragging his hand down his face. “Yeah. Champagne flute.”

The nurse nodded, her enthusiasm unwavering despite Austin’s obvious lack of it. “Wow. I can’t believe she thought a glass could hurt you. You’re so tough!”

Austin laughed hollowly. “Not that tough. No idea how this would’ve gone if Superman here hadn’t stepped in.”

He leaned over, clapping Dominic on the back. It was a manly, friendly pat, the kind of touch Dominic had received from several clients after he protected them. But Austin’s hand lingered, his fingertips pressing into Dominic’s back like he wanted to do so much more. Dominic had to stop himself from reaching over and taking his hand as it slipped away.

“So,” the nurse said as she placed her supplies back into their respective drawers. “Is she going to jail?”

“That’s out of our hands,” Dominic said.

“I fucking hope so,” Austin said over him. “But she has this rich aunt who keeps paying bail—and paying for lawyers. Slippery little bitch. Sorry,” he added.

The nurse waved him away. “Aw, don’t worry about it. I’ve seen your movies, I know what you’re like.”

Austin’s face twisted. But only for a moment. Then it fell into the same dull disappointment that cropped up whenever someone assumed they knew who he was because of the characters he played.

“Before you go,” the nurse said, twisting her hands together. “Do you think you could maybe⁠—?”

She didn’t have to finish. Austin was already pulling a pen out of his pocket.

Austin drove them home. No driver, just Austin white-knuckling the steering wheel as he drove along the winding roads that led to his mansion.

“You’re staying here tonight,” Austin said as he pulled up outside. “After that shit you said about sewing it yourself, I do not want to see what you call proper wound care.”

“I practice proper wound care,” Dominic said.

“On others? Sure. On yourself?” Austin gave him a look so withering that Dominic couldn’t help but laugh.

“I might be a little more lax about it,” Dominic admitted. “But there really isn’t much to do other than keep it clean. I can replace my own bandages.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Austin said. “Get out of the car.”

Dominic thought about reminding him who gave the orders nowadays. But he was exhausted, and anyway, it sounded less like an order and more like Austin wanted tonight to be over with.

He got out of the car and followed Austin inside.

Austin rolled his sleeves down and sighed. “How is it? Does it hurt a lot?”