I gasped as I saw the bruising that stretched from his temple down to his jaw. “What happened?” I asked, striding quickly forwards and reaching toward the purpling mess. I stopped myself before I could touch it, knowing it must hurt a lot.
>
He grimaced. “It’s nothing,” he muttered. “I just did something stupid.”
“You got into a fight,” I said flatly.
“No!” he exclaimed. He frowned at me. “You know I don’t do that anymore.”
“Well, that’s what it looks like,” I said defensively. “And since I haven’t heard from you in a few days, I can only assume that you’ve been trying to hide it from me.”
He sighed. “I’ve been trying to hide the bruising from you,” he admitted, catching my hips and pulling me toward him, until our lower bodies were flush against one another’s. “I didn’t want you to worry. But I haven’t been fighting. I just got thrown off the bull and didn’t land right. I’m fine, though.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure this is the best idea,” I said uncertainly. “I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt.”
“But think about the gallery,” he said. “If I get the money, you’ll be able to get the loan from the bank and open it, won’t you?”
“Yeah,” I sighed, “but I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt just to get the money for the gallery.”
“It’s not bad,” he said, reaching up and bravely touching the edge of the bruising. “My jaw’s a little sore, I guess, but the rest of it is fine. I used to get worse when I was fighting.” He smiled crookedly at me.
I shook my head. “But-”
“Come on,” he said, cutting me off. He leaned in and kissed me. “See, I can still do that,” he said. “That’s how okay I am with the bruising. Doesn’t hurt to kiss you.”
I gave him a doubtful look, but couldn’t help laughing at the eager look in his eyes. “All right, all right,” I said, leaning in for another kiss. He deepened the kiss this time, nipping at my lower lip and then tonguing away the sharp flare of pain. I moaned and put a hand against his chest, leaning into him.
Trethan hissed and pulled away, pain in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips and staring concernedly at him.
He shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said. “You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”
“Bullshit,” I said succinctly. I shook my head. “If you’re going to hide things from me, I don’t know if we can continue to...” I trailed off, ducking my head in embarrassment. We weren’t in a relationship, after all. I didn’t have any leverage to threaten him with. It was his own prerogative if he wanted to lie and say that there was nothing wrong when there clearly was.
But Trethan responded to my unspoken threat, sighing and shaking his head. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he repeated, reaching up to unbutton his checkered shirt. As he pulled it open, I saw that the dark bruising wasn’t isolated to his face. Instead, there was a patch of green and purple bruising spreading down his ribs as well, plus assorted smaller bruises scattered in other places across his chest and stomach.
I put a hand over my mouth. “Trethan,” I said, horrified.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said.
“But how did it happen?” I asked. “You told me you were getting really good at riding the mechanical bull. I thought you were going to use that to win this thing.”
“I am,” he said tersely. “Riding a real bull is different from riding a mechanical bull, though. Anyway, when I’m at the Roasted Bison and I have a ride, I only go for one or maybe two rides in a night. With Larry, I’m training for an hour or two at a time. It’s only natural that there’s some bruising.” He shrugged. “Like I said, it’s mainly due to my own stupidity. Most of this bruising, I’ve just been exhausted and haven’t fallen the way I was supposed to. That’s all.”
I shook my head. “But you shouldn’t be letting him push you to ride until you’re exhausted,” I protested.
“I’m getting way better,” Trethan argued. “Can we go back to what we were doing?” His fingers trailed along my hip enticingly, but I forced myself to pull away.
“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” I said, looking at his injuries. I shook my head. “I can’t believe you’re this injured and all you can think of is still sex.”
He groaned. “I’d have to be in a coma to not want to have sex with you,” he said.
I giggled. “Really?”
“Really,” he said, growling. He looked at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Come on, let’s take a tumble in the hay. We’ve never done that before, have we?”
I snorted. “Seriously?”