Page 25 of My Rose

“What, pretty? Or beautiful?” The needle sunk back in, completing the first stitch of several that were needed. I had to keep distracting him, or maybe I just wanted to do that for myself. Either way, I wasn’t done fixing his hand.

My eyes being on you isn’t a need for me, Rose. It’s a want.

“What about hot? Sexy?”

A noise came from low in his throat, and I didn’t think it was from the needle. “Especially not that.” It was almost more intoxicating to admit these things to him under the guise of alcohol and the need to distract him. The things I believed I felt for only one other person were muddling down like the faint snow that fell from the night sky above us as it hit the dirt and seeped further beneath the surface.

I frowned. “Why can’t I say that? Would something bad happen to me?” It was a silly question, one I already knew the answer to. But words were just that—words. I was keeping his mind from the needle and blood with whatever I could think of. When this was all done, I could play it off as doing just that. Right?

His eyes cut to me, sharper than the glass that had cut him. “I would never let anything bad happen to you.”

Briggs’ free hand moved to my cheek, his thumb grazing over the cut. Then it fell to the bag, where his hand sifted through without him tearing his eyes from mine. Because we were staring at each other now as I held the needle loosely where it pierced through his skin. He lifted a packet to his teeth, and in one quick motion, he ripped it open and took the alcohol wipe from inside. The empty packet fell away from his lips as he wiped my cheek with the swab. I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth, which I must’ve exposed fully because his smile grew wicked like he was pleased with himself over the demand he gave earlier and his admission that followed.

They’re perfect.

My eyes darted between his lips and the fallen empty packet. “So, if I said it again…”

His smile fell, but his thumb remained pressed to my cheek. “Rose.” His fingers cupped under my jaw and his thumb moved in slow circles along my cut. “Don’t.”

My eyes fell to his hand. “You’re.”Stitch.“Kind of.”Stitch.“Beautiful.”Stitch.I finished the last stitch and didn’t look up to see his reaction. I kept my thumb pressed into the finished suture, but when I bent over his leg for one more butterfly bandage for the rest of the cut that didn’t need stitches, I felt his fingers wrap around mine.

Chapter 10

Briggs

“Shall I give in: to go down fighting might bank the fires?” ? Ovid

Her fingers were too soft, too graceful, and breakable. They were everything that mine weren’t. Where she saw calluses and a cut from the glass I’d thrown away from her, I saw blood. And not my blood, either.

Of their own accord, my fingers wrapped around hers, caging them in. Rose pulled back with the last bandage in her other hand, her soft blue eyes full of distant firelight like she was the thing awaiting me beyond the gates of hell I was trapped behind. But tonight had been different. I didn’t feel like I was in hell.

“Briggs?” Her tone was breathy as if she’d just run a mile, and her neck was tinged with red that spread up to her cheeks. She left the jacket I gave her partially unzipped, and without thinking, my free hand lifted to raise the zipper as she settled back into the space between my legs, staring down at our entwined hands. Part of me wanted to move my hand in the other direction, let gravity take hold, and peel away every inch of clothing until there was nothing left. I didn’t care if there was a party going on behind us—I’d take her into my car and fuck her the way I’d been craving to until she was screaming my name, filling my windows with her hot breath as I stole that from her, too. But the more sensible part of me, the one that usually ended up upsetting Rose, was trying to take over instead. It was snowing out—she seemed cold, her small frame shivering on and off, and I was the asshole who was fantasizing about impaling her on my cock as she stitched me up.

My fingers stayed on the zipper longer than they should have, and Rose started leaning into my hand while her other one heated in my palm. My weakness for a certain brunette with baby blue eyes over the past few weeks was making me just that—weak. Vulnerable in ways I’d never been before. “What do you want, Rose?” My tongue swiped along my bottom lip as I stared back at her.

She watched my mouth and drew in her bottom lip, clamping down on it with those top teeth that made her stand out in the best way possible. I wasn’t lying when I told her they were perfect. Just like I wasn’t lying when I told her I was no good. Not for anyone, and especially not for her. The thought had me dropping my hand from her zipper as my cock throbbed against the one on my jeans. She was still wordless. Contemplating her next move—if there was going to be one. Her boldness and the way she spoke back to me told me to sit back and wait. She had a move. We both knew it. She’d force my desires from me, and I kind of liked that idea.

Her lip popped out along with her desire as she replied, “You.”

Fuck, I adored the way she spoke her mind so unabashedly.

A low groan escaped me, and I dropped her hand from mine. Instantly, my palm turned icy. “You’ll regret it later.”

“I can handle myself, remember?”So ready to fight me on everything.She folded her arms across her chest, oozing the defiance I craved from her. That pang of guilt that used to be so torturous was being replaced by something equally disastrous once more.

I raised a brow. “Oh?” I wanted to push her over that mental edge. Maybe she’d be smart and turn away. She could go back to the bonfire, back to her preciousbest friend. Or not. “Is that what you were doing earlier? Handling yourself back there in the woods?”

The corner of her mouth twisted up as she eyed my hand. “Better than you did.”

“Isavedyou,” I reminded her. “You’re lucky that cut is the only thing you got. You have no idea how close you were to hitting your head on those roots.”

“Oh?” The inflection in her tone was bordering on mockery. Fuck that, shewasmocking me. And just like that, the bratty, defiant Rose was back in full bloom. I didn’t like playing games, but with her, it was almost euphoric. “What if I wanted something else? Something more than being saved?”

My knuckles dragged down her cheek, brushing off several specks of snow. Her eyelids fluttered as she leaned into the touch. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” I dropped my hand.

Her voice wavered as she admitted, “I wastryingto get intoyou.”Her gaze drifted along my arms, trailing up to my mouth.

“You…we…shouldn’t.” My grip remained firm as my hand flexed around her small fingers, my body at odds with what I knew I shouldn’t be doing.

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