Stopping at his chest of drawers, I riffle through until I find his t-shirts. When I do, I drag one out, drop the towel around me and pull it over my head. I can feel his stare burning into my skin, and when I turn, I find I’m right.
“My clothes look better on you,” he says after clearing his throat.
I smile weakly at him before heading for his bed. After pulling the sheets back, I climb in. I have no idea what time it is; all I know is that I want to be in a bed, preferably with him beside me, and I’m hoping that by choosing his, I’ve left him little choice.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, still hovering in the doorway, wearing only his towel that’s wrapped deliciously low on his waist. It shows off the deep V that disappears beneath the fabric and the top of the colourful dragon tattoo that wraps around his hip and left thigh.
My fingers twitch to reach out and pull the towel from his body. If only I were a little closer.
“Something like that,” I mutter, my eyes tracking back up to his face. His chin is covered with almost a week’s worth of fuzz, his hair is damp and sticking up in all directions, and he’s got rivulets of water running over his tanned skin. You’d have to be blind not to notice how hot he looks right now.
“I can order whatever you fancy.”
I make a show of licking my lips as I focus on him, it’s so much better than thinking I’m still back in that room like my brain keeps trying to tell me. I need him to make it all go away.
“Kas, you need to eat something. Did you even have any dinner before you went out earlier.”
I shake my head. I was too nervous to eat.
I want to tell him to forget it, that I’m fine, but I know from the hard set of his jaw that he’s not going to let this go.
“Chinese, and a bottle of Jack.”
“You got it.” He spins on his heels, and in a blink he’s gone, leaving me alone for the first time since he went to run the bath. I begin to panic.
I hate that I feel so weak, so unsure of myself and my surroundings, but the second I can no longer see him, my heart starts to race, and the walls begin closing in on me. The images of his face that I’m trying to banish assault me immediately, and I squeeze my eyelids closed in an attempt to force him out of my head.
In a matter of seconds, his footsteps sound out over the blood racing past my ears, and his large frame fills the doorway once again.
I smile when his eyes land on me once more, but there’s no way he misses my anxiety.
“I… uh…” He holds his phone out, clearly not knowing what to say about my obvious panic. “I thought you might like to choose.” He drops onto the bed beside me and hands his phone over.
I stare at the menu before me, but the words just spin. I’m unable to focus on anything. My head pounds, reminding me once more that I clearly hit something hard when that motherfucker fell on me earlier.
“It’s okay, you choose. There’s not much I don’t like.” I hand it back, but he doesn’t take it for a few seconds. Instead, he just studies me.
“Okay. Do you need some painkillers or anything?”
“Yeah, that would be great.”
“I need to redress your cut, too.”
I nod, knowing he’s right. I can feel water trickling down from where the bandage has soaked up a load of bath water.
He makes quick work of ordering some food before placing his phone on the bedside table and standing.
He swaps his towel for a pair of boxer briefs—all too quickly, I might add—before disappearing from the room.
I focus on the noises he makes in the hope it keeps the panic and memories at bay, and thankfully when he reappears once more, I’m in a much better state than last time.
“Here, take these.” He passes over a couple of tablets and a glass of water.
“Thank you.”
“Throw the covers off, let’s get a look at this cut.”
I do as I’m told and happily lift the hem of his shirt. Sadly, he’s too concerned about the blood that’s dripping from the bandage to notice that I’m bare before him.
“Ouch,” I complain when he starts pulling at the tape.
He glances up at me briefly, but he soon continues.
“You’d never make it as a nurse, you know. You’re not exactly gentle.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know that these hands can do all kinds of gentle things.”
“Oh yeah, want to start proving it?”
I breathe a sigh of relief when he finally pulls the last bit of tape from my skin.
“This might need stitches,” he says, cleaning it up.
“It’ll be fine. We can get some of those sticky things if need be.”
“Kas,” he warns.
“Spike,” I counter.
“It’ll leave a nasty scar.”
Not as bad as the ones on the inside. I just about manage to stop that thought from spilling from my lips. He knows tonight was bad. He’s already seen me at my lowest; he doesn’t need to hear things like that when he’s trying so hard to put me back together.
“I’ve already got a plan for that.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it might even involve your gentle fingers.”
His eyes fly to mine. “You going to let me ink you, Tiny?”
“Damn right I am. I’m hoping you might let me return the favour, too.”
“Err… I don’t let just anybody at this work of art,” he says seriously, gesturing to his half-naked body.
“You let my brother. That’s all I need to know.”
“Hey, it’s not like that, Tiny. He’s got skills.”
“Of course he does.” I wiggle my eyebrows and laugh, and fuck, it feels so good.
“I’ll have you know that Rebel Ink
