“No.”
She stepped closer and stared up at him. His breath hitched as he met her stare. “What are you doing?”
“Your ear.” She glanced at the other one. It was definitely swelling. “I think we should get you some ice and an antihistamine.”
He touched the swollen lobe and his eyes went wide. When they returned to the car, he looked in the mirror. “What the…”
The swelling had already spread to his cheek and eye. He was starting to look a little like Sloth from The Goonies.
“Maybe I should drive.”
“I’m fine. Where’s the closest drug store?”
She glanced at the clock on the dash. “They closed at five.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “Small town. I might have something at the bar.”
“I’m not…” He frowned as his words seemed to clog at his lips, which were now twice the size they were when they got there.
“Oh, boy. Yeah, you’re gonna have to let me drive.”
“Um tobolly bine to dribe.”
“Oh, good. Because I had been worried you were one of those insecure men who couldn’t bear the thought of looking vulnerable in front of a woman. But thank God you’re not.”
His swollen eye was already closed, but he narrowed the other one. “Bine. Woo dwibe.”
“I will dwibe. Hop out.”
As soon as he got out of the car, she scooted into the driver seat. It took her a minute to get situated and adjust the mirrors and steering wheel. “Wow, this is a really nice car.” The thought of driving something so expensive left her tense and hyperaware of her surroundings.
“I’m just going to drive us back to town.”
“I don’ wanna doh to O’Mowwey’s.”
She laughed. “Well, you need medicine and somewhere to clean up your hand. So, unless you want me to drop you off at the clock tower, Quasimodo, that’s where we’re going.”
“Dust take me back to my model.”
“Do you have medicine there?”
“No.”
“Then stop arguing. I can hardly understand you anyway, and I need to focus on the road so I don’t crash your car. Please tell me you’re insured.”
He silently watched her as she navigated the back roads. When she reached O’Malley’s, they parked in the back. His swollen face was now red and blotchy. She really hoped this wouldn’t require a trip to the ER.
“Come on.” She grabbed her purse and led him to the stairs in the back, but he paused. Glancing back, she explained, “This is my apartment. Unless you want to take the other way and give everyone a chance to see you.”
He quickly shook his head and followed her up the metal steps. She unlocked the door and led him inside, flicking on lights as she made her way to the bathroom.
The loft wasn’t much, just a small studio with an open kitchen and a full bath. It had good closet space but no private bedroom.
“Have a seat.” She waved a hand toward the white futon that doubled as her bed.
She’d read in an article that decorating small spaces in white with pops of green could make it more inviting. So she’d painted the wood paneled walls, floor, and ceilings in the same eggshell white and bought all light colored furniture and decorated with various succulents—the perfect kind of hardy plants for her, since she only had relationships with things she couldn’t kill.
In the medicine cabinet, she found some allergy medicine and peroxide. Gathering some paper towels and gauze, she returned to the couch. He hadn’t said anything since they arrived. It was probably a reality check for him to see her tiny loft apartment. Nothing like the luxury home he probably lived in.
“Drink this.” She held out a cup of measured medicine and he tossed it back. “That should help the swelling.”
She unraveled the bandana at his hand and winced. He’d gouged it pretty good. “We need to wash this out.”
He followed her to the kitchen area, and the apartment seemed to shrink around him. He had to be almost six and a half feet tall.
She carefully rinsed the wound with cool water and poured a little peroxide over it. He hissed.
“Sorry.” She gently blew over the cut, hoping to cool the sting.
Aware of him watching her, she kept her gaze down and began bandaging his palm. “There. That shouldn’t take too long to heal. Keep pressure on it. If it starts bleeding again, you might need a stitch…” Her words fell away as she looked up and found him staring at her.
No one had looked at her like that in a long time, and it filled her stomach with a jittery urge to flee. Swallowing, she quickly gathered up the supplies and walked them back to the bathroom cabinet.
With only a hint of privacy, she gripped the lip of the bathroom sink and caught her breath. Staring in the mirror, she noticed her cheeks were flushed. “I guess we should pass on dinner.” That was probably best, since her stomach suddenly felt unsettled.