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I did. And then, I set out the supplies on his bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed beside him.
He leaned up and pulled his bloody shirt over his head, exposing his beautiful chest and abs. Tattoos were covering him, and my eyes scanned his skin, taking in the beautiful art and cut muscles. When I looked at his face again, he was watching me stare and grinning.
I rolled my eyes and turned away for the alcohol and gauze to clean the wound.
Once I had him cleaned, I threaded the small needle with the black thread I purchased and moved closer to the wound. It was angry and red, the flesh inside pink and glistening.
“This might hurt,” I said, readying myself to stick a needle into his skin.
With his arm behind his head, he relaxed into his pillow and shrugged.
“Do your worst.”
He didn’t flinch when I stuck the needle through his flesh or when I pulled tight and went in again. I continued sticking the needing in, pulling the thread tightly and watching as the wound slowly closed. His eyes were on me the entire time, making me itch to run away.
“Tell me something about you,” he requested.
I looked up, my eyes connecting with his before I looked back at my work.
“There’s not much to tell.”
“Where are you from?”
I stuck the needle in again and pulled tight. “Seattle.”
“And?”
I lifted a brow, unsure of what he was asking me. “And what?”
“And what made you move to Georgia?”
I paused when thoughts of my dad moved over my brain. It wasn’t until that very moment I realized I hadn’t thought about my dad even once in the last few hours. I hadn’t been able to do that since he passed away.
“My parents got divorced last year. I went with our dad, and Erik stayed with our mom. It was nice at first, but then my dad got sick. Cancer,” I said.
Cancer.
The word spoke for itself.
“That sucks.”
I nodded. “The doctors gave him six months, but he died six weeks later. So, now I’m with my mom and brother. My mom’s family was from Atlanta, so here we are.”
I didn’t go any deeper than that. I didn’t want to relive all the terrible things in front of Aiken. I didn’t want him to see me weak like he had before.
I continued working, feeling his eyes all over my face, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft and sincere.
“I’m sorry about what happened with your dad’s ashes. I hated that it happened that way.”
I nodded, accepting his apology and trying to stick it to the back of my mind before the tears came. Already, my eyes were stinging, and my nostrils were flaring.
Two more stitches and I finished. I cleaned the wound once again before I covered it with some gauze and tapped it down.
“There. All stitched up. It looks terrible, but at least you’re not bleeding anymore.”
I couldn’t look him in the eye. Instead, I busied myself cleaning up the mess I had made and tossing things in the trash.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” I said to the door before I opened it and started to leave.
