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I rolled my eyes. "Good to know," I grumbled as he began to unpack bandages, as well as a few other pieces from the first aid kit he propped on the massage table beside me.
Having seen him in action last night with his brothers, and comparing it with the few other occasions we’d been together, I wasn’t surprised at how he sat back and listened, analyzing rather than diving face first into a situation. Wasn’t surprised either that every movement he made as he patched me up was precise, oddly compacted as if he did everything with efficiency.
Last night, I’d also seen how he’d commanded his siblings without anyone being aware of it. As strange as that sounded, it was the truth.
I didn’t think they were aware of how they were all angled toward him, how they all looked to him first for direction. Considering he was the heir, I guessed it made sense. Being oldest did have some perks, but... maybe not. Didn’t brothers tend to resent the guy who’d inherit everything simply because he’d had the good fortune of being born first?
Or was that just in royalty?
Weren’t the O’Donnellys the crime world’s version of royalty though?
Or was this particular crown a burden that no one wanted to wear?
Distracted by my thoughts, he patched me up without me even really registering it. Not because it didn’t hurt, as it did, but because he was careful and adept, telling me this wasn’t the first time he’d carefully doctored cuts and scrapes, taped up a splint and bandaged a wrist for extra support.
I half hoped he’d ask to see my thigh, but no joy.
"I’ll keep an eye on you over the next few days. If the bruising and swelling gets worse, then I’ll have to arrange for them to be X-rayed."
I blinked. "I have insurance."
He cast me a glance, but his lips twitched again. "Savannah, your apartment is prime Manhattan real estate. You live in The Sharpe, for God’s sake. It never occurred to me that you didn’t have it. Whether or not you can use it is a different matter entirely."
I winced. "I think I rattled my brain."
At least, I hope that was what had happened. After that nasty fall off the coffee table, and then that dive down the stairs... maybe I should be grateful I hadn’t done myself some lasting damage.
"Yeah, you keep coming out with some odd shit." He sighed. "Maybe I shouldn’t have let you sleep. Not if you have a concussion."
Odd shit. Well, that was one way to put it.
"I’m all right," I groused, although being concussed would sure as hell explain the random crap that escaped my mouth and the way my body was more in charge than usual. As in, how it wasn’t letting me forget that Aidan was fiiiine.
In fact, the more that I thought about it, the more that I was relieved he thought I was concussed. If I did something that was out of the ordinary, then he wouldn’t think it was all that strange.
At least, I had to hope he wouldn’t.
Surely people said strange things around him all the time?
Humming at the thought, I peered at my newly taped up wrist and murmured, "Thank you, Aidan. I appreciate it."
"You’re welcome. Like I said, I’ll monitor you. Make sure you don’t need some medical intervention, but the worst of it looks to me as if it’s just a regular sprain from your falls. Not compound fractures or anything. I’d be able to tell the difference."
"I think I would as well. Aren’t compound fractures when bones pop out of the skin?"
He snorted. "Sometimes. You’re gruesome, aren’t you?"
Was I?
I didn’t think so.
Morbid, sure.
"Maybe?" I peered at a bead of sweat that was swirling through the meager chest hair on his torso. "Do you think we could go downstairs so I could grab some things? I don’t have anything to wear apart from this robe, and I’m not sure I can live in it all day."
Like that, without even meaning to, I changed the vibe between us.
A soft sound escaped him, one that had the air clutching in my lungs. I peered up at him, saw the strange gleam in his eyes and knew, from that one glance, he felt it.
