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“Okay.”
He accepts the second and follows my instructions carefully, treating my factor like he’s working with an unstable explosive. The moment the diluent drains into the bottle of powder, I help him remove the first and dispose of the unneeded bottle, then, gently placing the reconstituted factor between his palms and cupping them with mine, I start rolling.
Warmth builds, not just from the friction of our hands, but in the air. In the oxygen he breathes, and in the room we occupy. Archer’s eyes follow mine, his attention solely on me, his callused palms more tender than I ever could have expected them to be.
“Do you see how it’s clear now?” I slow our movements and show him the bottle. “It’s not milky or cloudy.”
“Y—” he stammers. “Yeah, I see.”
“Means it’s ready.”
Carefully taking the factor from him, I set it on the table and give one sharp look to the cat as she edges closer. “Don’t touch.”
Next, I grab the ten-milliliter syringe from the supplies pooled between us and remove the cap. Drawing in a little air, I pass it to Archer, then the bottle of medication. “Withdraw the factor into the syringe. Make sure you get it all.”
“Won’t the air kill you?” He does as I ask, but his desperate gaze flickers back to mine. “Even normal people know not to put air in your veins.”
Smirking, I watch him work and revel in the direction his protective streak goes. “That much air? It would probably be okay. But we’ll push it all out in a second anyway.”
The moment he drains all the factor from the glass vial, I glance down at my torniquet and finally tighten it.
It’s time for the needle.
The closer we come to this step, the faster Archer’s breath grows. The more the tourniquet works and my veins stand out, the shakier Archer’s hands become.
Grabbing another alcohol wipe, I clean the inside of my elbow and work slowly enough that Archer can follow every step I take. I open a brand-new butterfly needle and look down at my arm to find several thick veins standing at attention.
I don’t hesitate on this part, because if I do, I think Archer might run out of here, shouting. Or worse, he might try to intervene, like piercing my skin with a needle is bad.
Sliding the pointed end into my vein and taping it down, I release the tourniquet with asnapthat makes this strong, soldier-like man jump. Then I remove the filter needle and connect the syringe to the butterfly.
Finally, I hand the syringe to Archer, and smile when he looks up with a pale face.
“Slowly start the infusion.”
“Start the—” His jittery eyes jump between my arm and my face. “You want me to—”
“Yes.” And because I don’t think he will, I wrap my hand around his and begin pushing the reconstituted factor through the tubing. “Slowly.”
“Shittttt.” His breath races, but his hand remains controlled. “Does this hurt?”
It stings every single time. “No.”
“If I push it in too fast?”
“Run the risk of blowing the vein.”
“Too slow?”
“Boring me to death.” Snickering, I leave my pinned arm on the blanket, but I reach out with the other and snag the laptop. “We’ll multitask.”
“How?” Panicking, his eyes whip back to mine. “How the fuck can I watch that and this at the same time?”
I un-pause the security footage and work on orienting myself inside Club Opulus. “Eventually, you’ll do most of that with your eyes closed. Here, look.” I point at the screen the moment I catch sight of Kiera Chase. “Sitting at the bar with her friend.”
“I can’t—” He tries. He really does, but he can’t take his eyes from the syringe in his hand for more than a sliver of a second. “Minka! Pause the fucking footage.”
“Oh. The friend is pointing across the club. She’s heading to the bathroom.”
“Minka! Fuck.”
Laughing, I take care not to bounce too much, or I risk Archer’s complete meltdown. “You’ll be fine, Malone. Maintain the same pressure on the syringe. Bring your eyes over here.”
“Why are you trying to make this more difficult than it has to be?”
“The same reason you led me to believe your cat was a real woman sharing your bed.” Hitting pause on the recording, I turn to him and lean close enough to press a kiss to his lips. “You’re doing great. Slow and steady on the factor. If you go too fast, you’ll give me a headache.”
