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“It’s not that bad,” I say even though, yeah, it looks pretty bad.
“You have a medicine kit in here?” Piper heads for the sink, opening the cabinet above it.
I close the seat to the toilet and ease onto it. “I think so.”
Bottles clank as she rummages around, the towel clinging to her torso precariously. The towel she’s naked under. I let myself focus on that since it’s the only thing distracting me from the persistent pain in my hand.
Piper squints at a tube of antiseptic cream. “There’s no expiration date.”
“Just use it. I’m sure it’s fine.”
The paper towel is totally soaked through now. I’m not particularly squeamish, but the sight turns my stomach.
“Wait, here it is. Okay, it’s good until next year.”
Piper’s beside me all of a sudden, dripping water on me too. The scent of her shampoo surrounds me, familiar but more potent than usual.
“What happened?”
“I was moving the old shingles. Caught my hand on a nail.”
“You need a tetanus shot,” she tells me.
“Probably,” I agree.
She unwraps the paper towel and tosses it into the trash, grimacing, then starts dabbing at the cut with the cream.
“I can do it.”
Piper ignores me and continues dabbing. “Are you going to be able to perform?”
“For someone who’s not a fan of my music, you sound awfully concerned.”
“I never said I wasn’t a fan.”
“Right. You just hide itreallywell.”
“It’ll be my first Kyle Spencer concert. I’m looking forward to it.”
As if I wasn’t nervous enough, especially when I think about my plan back when “Blue Rain Boots” first released.
“I’ve played through worse.”
She rips the bandage open and sticks it to my hand, covering the wound.
“I didn’t know you sang.” The words are out before I could fully think them through.
Pink stains Piper’s cheeks as she stands and tosses the wrapper away. “Eavesdrop much?”
“I was injured and looking for medical attention.”
She huffs a laugh, then turns to wash her hands. “I don’t really.”
“You’re good.”
One shoulder lifts, then falls. Not arguing, but not agreeing either.
“Did you ever pursue it?”
