Page 61 of Skate the Line

It did shut her up, though, so at least there is a silver lining.

The dish rag stained with blood is bouncing right along with her leg on the passenger side of my truck.

She’s filled to the brim with nerves. Tight shoulders, tense spine, firm grip on her injured hand. That plump bottom lip of hers has to be raw from the incessant chewing she’s doing. In the worst way, I want to take my thumb and free it from her teeth, but that’d be certifiable, especially for me.

“You good?” I ask. “You’re makingmenervous.”

I never get nervous.

Sunny swings her head to me. “I’m great. In fact, we can go back home.”

Home.

When did she start calling my homeherhome?

I mean, it technically is her home as of late, but hearing her say it is sobering.

“You need stitches,” I say.

She rolls her eyes.Why is that so tempting?

The night lights blur against the side of her cheek, accentuating the soft curves of her face as she stares at me. “I really am fine. I can just…go to the doctor tomorrow.”

I flick the blinker on. “You’ll bleed out by then.”

It’s not true, and it's dramatic as fuck, but I’m not turning around.

Her sigh fills the entirety of my truck. The fit she’s throwing is amusing. I have to actually try not to smile at her scowl.

When I pull into a parking spot outside of the ER, she sits up a little taller and stares at the flashing sign. I observe her from the driver’s seat.

Why is she so bent out of shape?

Is she afraid of needles?

It seems unlikely that she’s afraid of blood. She didn’t act squeamish when I lifted our hands to examine the cut a half-hour prior. It was only when I mentioned going to the hospital that she clammed up.

“Are you afraid of the hospital?” I ask with a tone I only use with Ellie.

Until now, I didn’t realize I could use it with anyone else.

She answers too quickly. “Of course not!”

I turn the truck off. “You don’t have to lie to me. I won’t think anything less of you if you say you’re afraid.”

“I’m not!” she blurts.

Liar.

“Okay, then.” I leave my seat and round the front of my truck. I open her door and stand there, waiting. After a few seconds of her not moving, I sigh. “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go.”

Her warm, doe-like gaze clings to mine, and fuck,she’s terrified. A layer of moisture muddies the brown color of her eyes, and her lip is swollen from the nibbling. She climbs out of my truck slowly on shaky legs.

Part of me wants to help her, but it feels too…personal. So instead, I walk side by side with her until we’re outside of the automatic doors.

They open once, and she makes no move to go inside.

Then they close.

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