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She let out a breath, then shook her head. “I’m not pregnant. Why would you…” her voice trailed off. “What did I do?” she whispered instead. “Why are you so upset with me?”
A harsh sound escaped my lips. The question was justified. She had every fucking right to be confused. I was the idiot who couldn’t differentiate between then and now. Even if Kaylie had been dead in that bed, why the fuck did I care?
She was no one to me. So why did she have such a strong effect on me?
He stood, staring at me as if his gaze alone could burn me into oblivion. His fists were clenched to his sides, one dripping blood from torn knuckles. I cringed at the sight of the red drops falling to the beige carpet floor. It would be a pain to get that out. Scoffing at my stupid thoughts, I let the carpet go and focused on his hand. It was what I should have done from the start. The man was injured. Self-inflicted, but that wouldn’t make it hurt less.
“You need to wrap that hand.” I stood, careful not to make any sudden moves. Dizziness was nothing new, but I didn’t want to pass out a third time around him. Not if he was going to lose it like that.
He took one step back as I approached.
“I’m sorry I fainted.” I sighed. “It’s nothing, it’s just… I don’t know why, but my father is a doctor, and he says…” I trailed off, realizing I already said too much. I couldn’t tell him the real reason. I didn’t want him to look at me differently.
“He said what?” Marc growled. “I swear, Kaylie, if you keep lying to me…”
“I don’t know!” I cried out. It was half the truth. He never gave me the details, no matter how much I needed it. I thought I was fine with it until now.
He looked skeptical, and I forced myself to go on. “I just know that it’s…” I paused, forcing myself to lie. “Nothing serious. Nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” he snapped. “I thought you fucking died.”
The word hit me like a slap to the face. I looked away, hoping he didn’t catch the tears welling in my eyes. Pinning my gaze on the red stripes falling on the carpet, I fought for the courage. “Would you have cared if I did?” I asked it, despite knowing it was stupid. He only cared about getting his money. Getting the job done and being free of me.
Marc didn’t reply, and I was glad. I didn’t want to hear the answer. That I wanted him to care was more alarming. I shouldn’twantit. I shouldn’t want…him.
I glanced back up, catching him staring at me with that same tortured look on his face I first saw as I opened my eyes in this bed. “What happened to you?” I whispered.
He tore his gaze off me. “Nothing. Forget it.”
I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. But I had no choice but to let it go now. He cried another woman’s name. I didn’t need to know the details to understand he was hurting. Bad. “I won’t mention it,” I promised. “Just let me clean your hand.”
He let out a harsh laugh, then shook his head at me.
“What? That’s not macho enough?” I grinned at his scowl and added softly, “It’s okay to let someone take care of you for a change.”
“It’s torn knuckles,” he muttered, but came to sit on the bed next to me. I patted his thigh, then got up.
“The fuck are you going?” he asked as I headed toward the door.
“To ask if they have a first aid kit around here.”
“Kay—” he tried to stop me, but I slipped through the door before he had a chance to.
I came back minutes later, holding up the little red box in triumph. Marc sighed, but held out his hand as I sat next to him.
I took it, wincing at the blood smear that was once his skin. “You’re such an idiot,” I thought out loud, and he huffed.
Giving him a sheepish smile, I picked out the things I needed from the kit and began cleaning off the blood.
He didn’t make a sound, impressing me with the amount of control it took to not even flinch or wince. The antiseptic stung, no doubt about it. Glancing at his face as I worked, I was surprised to see him looking back at me with everything but pain in his gaze. I gulped, looking away and focused on his hand. My fingers were gentle, stroking his slowly and thoroughly until none of the blood remained and the wounds were clean. When it was wrapped and ready, I lingered, holding his hand in mine as I lifted my gaze.
“Done.”
Instead of removing his hand, he curled his fingers around mine, squeezing. His steel gaze drew me in, making it impossible to look away. My body leaned closer on its own as if he was a magnet pulling me to him. His grip on my hand tightened, almost to the point of hurting, but all I could focus on was the way he looked at me. As if he too was locked in this moment. Unable to escape. My heart skipped a beat as his free hand landed in my hair. He brushed it from my face, holding it in place at the back of my head as he explored my face. I could barely breathe when his fingers slipped from my hair to my cheek. He touched me with a strange blend of gentleness and roughness, as if he held back but couldn’t keep from feeling me, and I trembled under his caress. A thumb slid over my lips, making them part in a soft gasp. He abruptly removed his hand, and I whimpered in the absence of more. When he attempted to remove the wrapped hand, I held on, begging him with my eyes to not go, to never go.
He let out a shuddering breath, seeming to know exactly what was on my mind. Would it be so wrong if we wanted the same thing? If we wanted…each other.I saw it in his eyes, felt it in his touch, and how his body strained for me.
I thought I could never fall for someone, I never thought I wanted to. Because why would I? When I had nothing to give but—
