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If he knew how often I thought about his daughter. . . I close my eyes as the old war rages in my head.
Instead of the normal silence and stillness, she lets out a husky laugh. “They’re the ones that gave me the hard head. All their roughhousing. And I’m pretty sure Drew dropped me a few times when I was a baby.”
I know I’m the one who brought them up, but I really don’t want to talk about her family. I don’t want the reminder of why I’m not supposed to want to stretch her out on this ancient sofa, strip her bare, and lick every inch of her.
I still have the damp paper towel in my hand, and that’s as good of an excuse as any to extract myself. But I don’t. Because I don’t want to disturb this moment. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this. For Piper.
“Are you okay?” Her words are soft, almost like she isn’t sure she wants to know the answer. But Piper has always been curious and fairly direct. Knowing where you stand with her is one of the million things I love about her.
Which makes the way we circle around each other even more maddening.
No wonder I have heartburn.
“Fine,” I answer.
“Freaked out. Insecure. Neurotic? Emotional?”
She’s staring at my lips. But then, I’m staring at hers. Always staring at those lips. Watching her talk. Eat. Drink. Wishing they were on me. Kissing me. Nibbling me. Sucking me deep.
God, the things I want to do with her.
“Where’s your first aid kit?”
“Under the bathroom sink.”
I nod and stand. As I walk away, my skin tingles with awareness. That’s nothing new either, where she’s concerned.
When I return, she has a hand pressed to her forehead, having a mental battle with herself. She shakes her head a little, and her brown locks slither over her shoulder.
I tug the old trunk closer to the couch and plunk my ass down.
“I can. . .” She reaches for the small metal box.
“Let me take care of you, Pie.”
Her gaze softens, and her chest lifts. She gives a shaky nod, settling against the cushions. Her easy acceptance goes straight to my heart.
She stiffens when my phone buzzes again.
“That’ll be the family.”
“Can’t hold ’em off forever,” I say.
In synchronization, we pull out our phones, navigate to our texts, and read.
Madeline: what’s going on Piper? Murphy said you were punched in the face.
Drew: who do we need to kill?
I see her fingers move, and a new text pops up a second later.
Piper: I’m fine. It was an elbow. Accidental. Hunter’s taking care of me.
Short. To the point. And it makes my chest tight. If I’d really been taking care of her, she never would have been in the line of fire. If I’d had the balls to claim her before, to face my best friend and tell him the truth. . .
Archer: Hunter who do we need to kill?
Madeline: thanks for always taking such good care of our girl Hunter
