She doesn’t answer.
“Macy?”
She still doesn’t answer.
Jaxon glances at me, both brows raised, but I just roll my eyes. Then clap extra-loud to get her attention.
“Macy?”
“Oh yeah. Ice. I’m on it.”
“So no bandage, then?” Jaxon asks.
“And a bandage. Yes. Absolutely. I have a few, actually.” Suddenly she’s stumbling over her words and her feet as she rushes to her bureau and starts wildly opening drawers.
She finally finds what she’s looking for in the bottom drawer and spins around, a tightly wrapped hot-pink bandage in her hand. “Does this work, Jaxon?”
“It’s perfect, thanks.”
She glows under his praise, and it’s all I can do not to make a teasing comment. But seriously, if she’s not careful, she’s going to turn into one of his minions. So much for you can tell me how he hurt you. Traitor.
I reach out to take the bandage from her, but Jaxon gets there first. “I really can do it, you know,” I tell him.
“Maybe I want to do it for you.”
As she heads for the door, Macy makes a sound like the melting is actually starting, and even I have to admit, it’s a good line. Then again, convincing myself to like Jaxon has never been hard. I’ve been attracted to him from the very beginning, even when I was also supremely annoyed by him.
“What? No protests?” he asks a little sardonically.
“Are you going to wrap it or not?” I grouse, ignoring his question because answering it would be too embarrassing.
He ducks his head and gets to work, but not before I see the small grin he’s got going on. His scar pulls on the very edges of his lips, but that just turns the smile into a crooked little smirk that is a million times hotter than it should be.
His fingers are cold as he wraps up my ankle, but his hands are so, so gentle. I find myself relaxing despite myself, my muscles going lax as he strokes a finger back and forth against my calf.
And when I say his name this time, even I can hear the yearning. His head snaps up, his dark, bottomless gaze locking with mine.
His hand on my leg becomes firmer, more insistent as he leans in just a little. His wildly sexy scent seems even stronger now than it did when he was carrying me. It fills my senses, makes my mouth water and my hands ache to touch him. Makes me want to press my face into the curve of his neck and just breathe him in.
I’m already on edge from his closeness, and these new longings he sets off in me have my breath catching in my throat. My heart goes wild and, as he leans in just a little farther, my whole body lights up like the aurora borealis I’m still dying to see.
“Grace.” He says my name like it’s a promise. It’s the last straw, and I gasp, full-on melting commencing deep inside me. I’d say his name back, but I’ve lost control of my vocal cords. And pretty much the rest of my body, too.
His hand comes up to cup my cheek, and I close my eyes, lean into the caress. And then nearly jump out of my skin as the door crashes open and he yanks his hand back.
“I’ve got the ice,” Macy says. “I even crushed it up and—” She stops cold, her eyes going wide as she senses the tension in the air. With the way Jaxon is leaning over me, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she interrupted, and for a second, it looks like she’s going to ease her way back out of the room.
But then the moment is gone, and Jaxon is standing up, heading toward the door himself. “Put the ice on for twenty minutes and see how it feels. If it isn’t better, ice it again in an hour. Got it?”
“Yeah, I’ve got it,” I manage to croak out of my still-tight throat.
“Excellent.” He risks giving Macy another smile, then shakes his head as she whimpers just a little. He doesn’t say anything else until he’s about to walk out of my room. Then he turns around, hand on the doorknob, and says, “Stay away from Flint, Grace. He’s not what you think.”
The words chase away the last of my vocal paralysis—and goodwill. “Flint and I are friends. And you don’t get to tell me what to do.” I have just enough self-control not to add, No matter how much you intrigue me.
I expect him to fire back with something—God knows he’s arrogant enough to believe he should be instantly obeyed—but instead he just tilts his head and watches me for several long seconds. Then he says, “Okay.”
“Okay?” I narrow my eyes at his easy acquiescence. “That’s it?”