Kiss Me Again (Kiss Me 3)

More blood.

I shoved the towel at him. “Put pressure on it, and I’ll bandage it. If it doesn’t slow down, I’ll take you to the emergency room.”

He put the towel on the island counter and pressed his finger right into it. “I know you want to win this little battle, but this is an extreme way of doing it.”

“You’re not worth the wine I wasted,” I snapped back. “It was an accident, and you know it.”

“I know. But you owe me a towel.”

I rolled my eyes and set the first aid kit next to his hand. “You know there’s a thing called a washing machine, right?”

“Yeah, but bloodstains.”

“It’s hardly a white towel, you drama queen.” I got the rubbing alcohol and bandages out of the kit and soaked a cotton pad in the alcohol. “Give me your finger.”

He did as I said and flipped his hand so I could access the cut. It was bigger than I’d thought, but it didn’t look like it needed stitches. Hopefully, it was one of those weird cuts that looked ten times worse than it was.

Gently, I pressed the cotton pad against the cut. A hiss escaped him, and his entire body went taut.

“Sorry,” I whispered, wincing a little.

“Get on with it.” His voice was a low grumble, and I spared a glance up at his face. His skin was a little paler than usual, and he had his eyes screwed tightly shut.

Maybe the emergency room wasn’t a bad idea…

I dabbed it a few more times with the alcohol pad, then quickly put another on top of it. I waited for a second, but the blood didn’t come through.

“Hold that there,” I instructed Ethan so I could get the tape. I got it and secured the pad to his finger, then stepped back and looked over my handiwork. “Not bad.”

Actually, it looked a little bit like a ten-year-old wrapping the paw of a stuffed bear, but if it worked, it worked.

“Well,” Ethan said, admiring his finger. “It’s not going to win any nursing awards anytime soon.”

“Normal people say ‘thank you.’”

“Normal people don’t throw themselves around like a clown for a TV remote.”

“Watch out,” I said, rolling the dirty towel into a ball. “Or you’ll have a cut a lot bigger than that one to worry about.”

His lips tugged to one side. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I returned his smile, albeit slightly shyly.

He stepped around the corner of the island and reached out, wrapping one arm around my shoulders. He pulled me against his body and hugged me tightly, and I swear all my nerve endings came alive in that second.

His fingers were wrapped around my arm, and my front was pressed right against his. Taking a deep breath, I could smell coconut and papaya from where he’d obviously stolen my shampoo, but there was a lingering scent of motor oil, too.

This was the first time we’d ever been this close. In fact, it was the first time he’d ever hugged me, and a part of me hated that he was doing it right now.

Because my heart was pounding. And there was no way he couldn’t feel it against his chest.

“All right. Get off, or I’m going to think you like me.” I extracted myself from his arms and ducked my head so he wouldn’t see the blush I knew was already warming my cheeks.

The last thing he needed to know was that I was the one with some weirdo feelings.

I busied myself putting the first aid kit away under the sink. “I’ll get the broken glass, and you do the liquid.”

“Yeah, I’m not touching that glass.”

I went back over and carefully picked up all the glass, thankfully without slicing my own fingers open. Ethan worked to get up as much water as possible, and I grabbed a dustpan and brush to clean it up. It was too late to vacuum, and I didn’t think my downstairs neighbor would appreciate the interruption.

He was a grumpy old bastard as it was.

I swept the whole area. If I’d missed any, it was going to really suck.

“So, what have we learned here tonight?” Ethan asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t hide the remote from the short girl,” I shot back.

He shook his head. “No. The remote control is sacred in a man’s hand.”

“You know what else is sacred? Your balls. The remote could cost you money if it doesn’t stop bleeding. Don’t let your attitude cost you your balls.”

“Feisty.” He grinned, folding his arms over his chest. “Is that an after-effect of the adrenaline?”

“What adrenaline?”

“The adrenaline from when I hugged you and your heart beat so hard it was practically punching me in the chest?”

I swallowed hard and jerked my chin into the air. “It was the blood.”

“Yeah, all right.” His eyes flashed with something indiscernible, and I held his gaze for a moment before I pulled away and grabbed my purse from where I’d dumped it on the floor.