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“You obviously don’t know many cheerleaders.”

“Only the one.”

For some reason, hearing he doesn’t know other cheerleaders makes me happy.

“Are you hurt?”

Eyes closed, he nods.

“I’m so sorry.” I groan, my hands already trailing over him, feeling for any bones sticking out. “Where does it hurt?”

He taps his lips.

My examination comes to an abrupt halt. “That hurts?”

“Mm-hm. I need mouth-to-mouth.”

My eyes practically roll themselves.

“Or pussy-to-mouth. Either one should bring me back from the brink of death.”

The grin that sneaks out is a traitor.

“You’re…” Predictable. I should’ve known he’d milk this. “Our bread’s going to burn because of your nonsense.”

Two hands latch on to my hips when I start to push off Khaos, then a single sapphire eye is cracked open. “Our?”

“It was a joint effort,” I reluctantly admit. “Come on.”

Again, I try to get up, but he only tightens his hold on me, keeping me on top of his stomach.

“We got a few minutes.”

“Isn’t this uncomfortable?”

His head shakes, freeing drops of water from the strands hanging over his forehead.

“Yes, it is. Your back is literally an S right now.”

“Trust me, I’ve been in worse shape.”

“Okay…well, it’s uncomfortable for me, so if you’re not dying—”

“I’m dying.”

“You are not.”

“You should probably give me mouth-to-mouth just to make sure.”

“No,” I half laugh, half yell.

“Pussy-to-mouth?”

“No!” Now I’m full-on yelling and laughing.

Finally, he releases me, saying, “It was worth a shot.”

After getting him on his feet, we walk up the stairs at a more dignified pace.