Page 29 of Necessary Roughness

“Don’t look at the blood,” Harrison told him.

Jordan watched the color drain out of Tanner’s face. He looked horrified. She regained the use of her extremities and reached out to grab his upper arm.

“Fuck. There’s more than I thought.” Tanner’s voice sounded panicky.

“Shut your eyes.” Harrison half ran to Tanner’s side, propped him into a sitting position, and told him, “Put your head between your legs. Breathe.” He pulled up the leg of Tanner’s warm-up pants. “Your incision seems fine.”

“I didn’t twist it or anything. DP needs more help than I do.”

Jordan was sure that this entire thing would be hilarious later. Right now, it wasn’t quite so funny. She was going to be sore as hell tomorrow morning, and she wasn’t going to think about what would happen if Tanner passed out right now. It seemed that the big guy didn’t like the sight of blood, especially his own.

She shoved herself into a sitting position. If she braced herself with both hands, she could get up off the ground. Harrison was running back and forth between them like a field medic. She could get up right now and walk, but maybe it would be a good idea to sit here for a minute or so and gather her thoughts first. She was also attempting to forget what it felt like to have Tanner on top of her. It wasn’t like it was romantic, but she’d be lying to herself if she tried to ignore the fact she spent a few seconds wrapped in his arms and liking it.

Liking it, hell. His skin felt like a brand against hers. She didn’t know if her heart rate sped up because she’d been scared or she was near him. She wished she could ignore the hormones currently coursing through her bloodstream. It wasn’t going to happen.

Jordan was in good shape and strong from lifting weights five days a week, but she knew she couldn’t pick Tanner up herself if it happened again. He seemed uninjured, but she knew that they would be waiting for the adrenaline to wear off before he would notice any other issues. Her heart was still pounding too.

She definitely had Stockholm syndrome. Plus, she couldn’t ignore her physical reaction to him. Hopefully he’d do or say something shitty so she could remind herself how annoying and full of himself he was. It should happen any minute now.

***

BY THE TIME they managed to get Tanner into a chair and mop up his bloody knuckles, nobody felt like a drink. The three of them sat on the deck while the sun sank on the horizon and Tanner inhaled a barbecue cheeseburger and a small mountain of fries from UberEats. He wrapped a napkin around his bandaged knuckles so he wouldn’t get barbecue sauce on the gauze. Harrison and Jordan split a pizza.

“So, champ, how you feeling?” Harrison casually slung one arm around the back of Jordan’s deck chair. She smiled as Harrison winked at her.

Tanner’s eyes narrowed a bit as he watched. He took a swallow of the one beer he’d managed to snag on his way out to the deck. He looked like a thundercloud.

The urge to laugh at the expression on Tanner’s face warred with a teeny bit of uneasiness inside her. She wasn’t worried that Harrison didn’t know what the word no meant. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea about how she felt about him, and the hurt feelings that would ensue.

“Are you sure you should be drinking that while taking pain pills?” Jordan said to Tanner.

“Don’t start with me,” Tanner said. “It’s one beer. Also, could we talk about something else? I’m tired of discussing my health.” He raised one eyebrow. “Seen any good movies lately?”

“She’s on your ass now, T,” Harrison said. “Good luck with that.”

“I’m arguing with her right now.” Tanner gestured at Jordan with a ketchup-coated French fry. “Get in line.”

Jordan got up from her chair, flounced into the kitchen, and filled a glass with ice and water. She made a quick search for the pain medication she knew Tanner took; he must have left the bottle in his bathroom or something. She reappeared on the deck a couple of minutes later, set it down in front of Tanner, and said, “Drink this.”

Harrison patted her shoulder as she sat down again. “Don’t worry,” he said under his breath. “It would take a hell of a lot more than a beer to kill his ass.”

“I feel like ass right now, as a matter of fact,” Tanner shot back.

“Sore?”

“Yeah. You try wiping out on the staircase.”

Harrison pretended to rub one eye with a fist. “Waaaah. And you didn’t take your pain medication, either.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“Don’t be a big baby. We’ll get you some Bengay or something. You’ll be good as new by tomorrow. You used to knock other guys on their asses, and now a spill down a few stairs is taking you out? Jordan told me she’s a little sore too.” Harrison moved a bit closer to Jordan as he spoke.

Tanner’s eyes riveted onto Jordan’s as his eyebrows slammed together. “Are you okay? Do I need to call the doc to get over here and check you out?”

She waved one hand in a “no, thank you” gesture. “It’s a few pulled muscles. Whatever. I’ll get some sleep and I’ll be fine.”

She could also soak in the guest room tub for a few minutes before she went to bed. The hot water and the jets would help. Right now, she was a bit curious about the game Harrison seemed to be playing with Tanner. Harrison was flirting, and Tanner seemed unhappy about it.

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