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When I straightened up, I saw a familiar figure walking my way. He had his bag slung over his shoulder, and his entire body looked stiff.
When our eyes connected, his steps faltered briefly before continuing.
My first instinct was to dash inside, but we had called for a truce. We were no longer on warring sides anymore. We could come together as two grown adults.
“Morning.” My voice sounded too chipper, and I internally cringed at that. “You’re up early.”
He came to a stop in front of me. There were about two feet of distance between us, yet I inhaled his spicy scent that made its way toward me.
“I just got off shift.”
“Oh,” I said and shifted between my feet. “You do the night shift now?”
“It was a 24-hour shift.”
My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “24-hour shift. That’s…that’s wild.”
“Not really. I have the next 48 hours off duty to get them back.”
I made a face. “I couldn’t imagine being on shift for 24 hours.”
“What? You have a strict night routine that you need to follow?”
“I do, smart ass.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “My head must hit the pillow at exactly 9:30 to get the correct rest. More rest means fewer wrinkles when I’m older.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, but more power to you.”
Would you look at that? Nathaniel Cane and I were being civil. Who would have thought?
I thought this guy was a giant prick only a few days ago, and now…he was half a decent guy. It was refreshing.
“Morning run?”
“Yeah. I needed to clear my head a bit, and I—you’re bleeding.” I grabbed his chin; I stepped closer, turning his head to expose the oozing blood scratch on his neck. “What happened?”
His hand came on top of mine. Then, I realized just how close we were to each other.
“I must have nicked myself when I was getting over the fence when we got a call last night.”
Tiny little tingles traveled up and down my arm, my body hyper-aware of him. “I can help you out. Come to my apartment.” I was surprised I could even formulate coherent words at this point. It felt like there was this chaotic storm attacking my senses.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to do that.”
“Just come.” I detached my hand from his, finally able to breathe once I stepped back. It was like my system short-circuited when he was close. “I have a first aid kit.”
I led the way, and he followed wordlessly behind me. The entire time I felt the buzz in the air. The electricity crackled around us. That was what this man did to me.
We walked into my apartment, and I took him to my bathroom, where I ordered him to sit on the toilet seat.
I made quick work of getting my supplies and began cleaning the wound. Honestly, it was more of a scratch, but the blood oozing from it had been worrying.
I angled his head so he was facing far right so I could better access his neck. I was between his legs, and my boobs were right in his face.
Thank God the Chicago Fall was chilly because I would have been in a sports bra or tight tank instead of a sweatshirt. But still, this closeness to him had me feeling all flustered again. I could feel the heat reaching my face, and I only prayed that my cheeks didn’t turn red. But with my luck, I was probably as bright as a tomato in season.
I dabbed the alcohol-dosed swab onto his wound, and the man hissed, grasping my wrist in his large hand tightly.
I froze instantly. Those little, tiny sparks now have shock waves roaring through my veins.
