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“It's your shoulder.” I pointed at his bloody shoulder.
He glanced down, his eyes widening slightly. “Oh, shit. I didn't even notice that.”
“Adrenaline will do that,” I pointed out.
I crossed over to him. Manhandling him a little, I shoved him down in a kitchen chair.
“Let me get a look at that. You might need stitches.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I do not need stitches, Harley,” he muttered.
I started to pull apart the fabric but realized it was dirty. “Take your shirt off,” I ordered.
Of all the things Ineverexpected to say to Grant Walker.
He obliged, and I tried not to notice his muscled, bronzed chest with a smattering of amber hair. His shoulder was already swelling, and the cut was deep. “Is this where he kicked you?”
“I don't know. He charged me. It all happened really fast. I fell. I know I scraped my face on a rock or something. I probably cut my shoulder on something too.”
“We need to clean this up. I think we should take you to the hospital.”
“No. It's just a cut. The first-aid stuff is right in that cabinet.” He nudged his chin toward the corner cabinet.
I hurried over, fetching a plastic bin containing bandages, antiseptics, and so on. Because this was Walker Adventures, the entire family and everyone working here were badass and outdoorsy. They risked their lives on the regular flying in the Alaskan skies. This was a seriously well-stocked first-aid kit.
“Let me clean it first. I’ll use warm water and soap and then disinfect it.”
A few moments later, I was eyeing the cut. It was clean, but it still looked terribly painful.
Grant glanced toward his shoulder. “Just put some butterfly bandages on it and then cover it with a larger bandage.”
“You know, you don't have to be all tough. Some stitches wouldn't be a bad idea.”
“I don't need stitches, Harley,” he insisted.
I rolled my eyes. My heart was still racing from discovering he was injured, and I was anxious and worried. The scrape on his cheek was starting to swell. “It’s going to look like somebody punched you in the face,” I commented.
“I'll just tell them you did it,” he returned with a wink and a quick grin. The very grin that sent my belly into somersaults on the regular and did so right now.
Despite his injured state, my hormones were disobedient.
ChapterTwo
GRANT
Harley was a handful, and I wanted to kiss her. I'd wanted to kiss her for too damn long. But she was off-limits. Unfortunately, she was also my roommate. Fuck my life.
“Grant,” she began. She actually wagged her finger at me. “I really think we should go to the hospital.”
“I really think you should get the butterfly bandages out, pour peroxide or alcohol over it, and put the bandages on.”
I wasn't thinking when I reached out and placed my hands on her hips to turn her around. “There's antibiotic ointment in the smaller container in the cabinet.”
Fuck me. Her hips were soft, my fingers pressing into the lush give of her curves. Thank fuck I was sitting down because I was sporting a serious hard-on at this point. All over Harley, my friend's little sister. I had two younger sisters myself. I knew the rules. You were not supposed to fall for anybody’s sister. Definitely not a younger sister.
Harley stepped away, marching back to that cabinet, her hips swinging with every step. She fetched the smaller container in question and returned, opening it. “Oh, I see. All right. I should use alcohol just because you won't take my advice,” she muttered.
“Go for it.”
