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She stepped back and Theo opened his eyes, watching her again.
“And this rosemary essential oil should help your ribs. You … uh … you can rub it on.” She handed him the vial.
“You’re not going to help me?” He held her gaze, challenging her.
Fee flushed hot from her cheeks to her toes.
“Theo … I…”
She was about to say no. No, she wouldn’t help with that. No, she should not put her hands on him anymore. No, this was all a terrible idea.
But Fee had never been good at self-preservation. Not when it came to Theo.
She let the words fade from her lips. She took the vial back and poured some oil in her palm. She warmed it between her hands and Theo watched her intently.
She was lightheaded.
Giddy with the thought of touching him.
She reached out and glided a hand over his ribs.
Theo grunted like she’d knocked the wind out of him.
“Did I hurt you?” She went to pull her hand away, but Theo stopped her, grabbing her wrist, keeping her in place.
Their faces were close, nearly nose to nose.
“No, Fee. You didn’t hurt me.”
He loosened his grip and she ran her hands over him again, rubbing the oil across his ribs and around to his back. His breath was jagged against her cheek.
“Christ, Fee. That feels … you are … we should…”
Every sentence he cut off felt like torture. We should what?
His skin was so warm and slippery beneath her hands she couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to press more of herself to him, to strip off her own clothes and slide against him.
Is that what he was going to say?
We should give in.
“What if you left your pack?” she asked and Theo jerked back, shocked by the suggestion. She was shocked, too. She’d never meant to say it.
“Left my pack?”
“Yes.”
“Just left them?”
“Right.”
He blinked.
“And then what?”
“I don’t know. Whatever you want.”
Theo looked dumbfounded.
