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“You pushed me.” If that sounded like an accusation, it was meant to.
He had shoved me away, made me fall over the chair and crack my damn head open.
All over a simple kiss.
Okay, maybe not such a simple kiss. It had actually been the hottest kiss I’d had in a very long time.
Maybe even ever.
He might want to deny our attraction—or connection, or whatever we had that created the small explosions in my center—but it was there. No denying it.
Well, Chase denied it.
But he couldn’t deny that he’d been as hard as I was during the kiss and he’d been kissing me back.
All before…
He could’ve killed me. What an asshole. “You could’ve killed me,” I repeated out loud.
Those very same lips I kissed twisted. “Obviously, you didn’t die.”
“But I could’ve.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I only tripped over the chair because you pushed me.”
He grimaced and at least had the decency to look guilty. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, it was an automatic response.”
“That’s not the typical response to a kiss. I could’ve died.”
“We went over that already. You’re still breathing.”
“Lucky for you!” Planting a hand on the floor, I pushed myself up.
“I wouldn’t say that you still breathing labels me as lucky.” He pushed me back down. “In fact, I’d say it’s the opposite. Because if you can breathe, you can talk. Stay there.”
“No. You’re dangerous.”
“I’m not.”
“Proof says otherwise.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Chase mumbled. “I… panicked.”
Of course he panicked. His initial reaction and his hard-on proved he liked it. He only wasn’t happy about it. “You hit me over a kiss?”
“I didn’t hit you. I simply pushed you away.”
“Semantics.”
“There’s a clear distinction between the two.”
“Says you.”
A loud sigh filled the space between us. “Let’s get you up and moved somewhere more comfortable than the floor.”
I rose enough to sit. “I should go.”
“I’m sure you’re still dizzy.” He tried to push me back down but this time he was unsuccessful. “You probably shouldn’t drive.”
I’m sure it killed him to tell me that I shouldn’t leave. “I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted.”
“That hasn’t stopped you before.”
I guessed that was true.
“You should rest.”
“Where? On a wood floor?” I asked. Because the man didn’t even have a damn couch. He had a very comfortable-looking chair—possibly a recliner—in front of the fireplace, but other than that the furniture in his place was slim pickings.
He glanced around, and a muscle ticked in his cheek when his gaze landed on his bedroom door.
Oh no…
“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable. Since I don’t have a couch, you’ll have to use my bed.”
No. No.
That wasn’t smart. But then kissing him without asking first wasn’t smart, either. “Help me up and out to my truck. I can drive.”
“You shouldn’t. Not yet.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not fine,” he practically shouted. Clearly a sign of him losing his patience.
Well, he wasn’t the only one.
Surging to his feet, he left me on the floor sitting up. A second later, he leaned down, hooked an arm under my armpits and around my back. “Help me. I can’t lift you on my own.”
“I don’t want to lay in your bed.”
“Believe me, I don’t want you there, either.”
Just for that, I now wanted to sleep in his bed all night.
He assisted me to stand and as soon as I was on my two feet, my brain took a couple spins around my skull and my vision darkened around the edges. “Whoa.”
“Told you. You should listen to me.”
I would’ve rolled my eyes at that if I didn’t think it would make me pass out. “That’s arguable.”
He sighed, gritted his teeth and I leaned into him as he helped me the few feet to his bedroom. Once we were inside, he sat me on his mattress. Then, as soon as I scooted back and got my ass settled, he lifted my legs and slid them across the bed until I was in a reclined position.
His bed was really damn comfortable. I’d have to ask him about the brand of mattress.
He tucked his two pillows under my head, careful to avoid the injury. “Stay there. Don’t move. I’ll get you ice.” He spun on his feet and jetted from the room like his ass was on fire.
“Pour some whiskey on that ice,” I called out before wincing from yelling.
Chase grumbled something but I couldn’t make out what he said.
I sighed. Well, this wasn’t how I expected my evening to go.
As much as I had fantasized about being in Chase’s bed, none of those fantasies included me being in it by myself or having a slight head injury. Caused by the man himself.
“I don’t have corn or peas. This is the best I can do.”
“I thought you were bringing me a whiskey on the rocks.”
“You’re getting frozen spinach.” He stepped closer and set the bag of frozen vegetables on the bed along with a dry wash cloth, unscrewed the cap on a bottle of Aleve and shook two pills out onto his palm. “Take those.”
