Page 20 of Under One Roof

Fucking took me out with it already.

Though, I’d never want to tame her. If anything, I’d want to set her free.

Giving in, I sigh and lift my arm. That’s when she tugs on my sleeve, revealing the bloodstain. “How far up do these cuts go?” she asks. And then she almost absently says, “Take this off so I can see.”

I grab the back of my shirt and slide it over my head, careful when I pull my arm out, but it’s no use. I smear more blood on the cotton. As if she can read my mind, she waves her hand, swatting away the problem. “It’ll come out in the wash. Here, lemme…”

We both realize at the same time that I’m in front of her with my shirt off, and her head is even with my pecs. A room has never felt so small. The entire house has never been so silent.

I can hear every single one of Andi’s inhales and exhales. Can practically feel the air between us, like right before a storm. Hot and heavy and electric.

I swallow, my throat dry.

She licks her pouty lips to a shine, her eyes never lifting above my collarbone.

It’s torture.

Easier to pull myself through that window again than stand here and not touch her.

“You, uh…” She blinks a few times and steps back, forcing a laugh that sounds manic. “Just, like…” She waves her hand in front of her face and whirls around to riffle through the kit. “Took me by surprise.”

“You told me to take it off,” I say, as if I didn’t like her looking at me. As if I didn’t wish she’d do more than stare.

But it’s a long time until she slants her gaze to me again. “Do you have any cuts anywhere else?” When I shake my head, she points to the closed toilet lid. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

I do, and she finds the hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls then turns to me. She gently takes my hand to place on the sink, forcing me to extend my arm, her eyes drifting to my chest, over the tiger tattoo there, and up to my shoulders. Eventually to my face.

I’m not sure if she’s disturbed to find me watching her, but the only reaction she shows is a pinking of her cheeks and biting into her lower lip. Maybe embarrassed she was caught again.

As if I haven’t been watching her this whole time. As if I haven’t studied every goddamn thing she’s been doing. Every breath and bend of her spine. I’ve spotted the few freckles dotting her legs and counted the number of hoops lining the shell of her ears. If someone asked me what color her eyes are, I’d tell them they’re a swirl of gold and brown to create a color close to how I take my coffee.

That’s what Andi is—a hit of caffeine. Comforting yet strong, pumping through my veins, a jump-start to my heart.

She pours the hydrogen peroxide over the cotton and cleans off all the cuts on my forearm, wincing to herself when she gets to the biggest one. The one that keeps oozing blood. “How did you even do this?”

I lift my shoulder, ignoring the burn. “Things happen.”

She shoots me a glare. One that I think is supposed to intimidate me into telling her the truth. It doesn’t, but I want to anyway. Because I think I’d cut my chest open and hand over the organ she kicked into gear if she asked. “I was climbing through a broken window, and…”

“Things happen,” she fills in, and I nod. “You should be more careful,” she chides, and the laugh I let out shocks not just Andi but me too.

“I’ll do that.”

She presses her lips together, fighting a smile. “Good. You can’t be coming home banged up like this all the time.”

But I will be coming home. To her.

And I like that idea.

More than I should. More than I have any right to.

She applies some ointment to my cuts then sticks on large bandages and closes up the kit with a snap. “Okay. All done.”

I don’t move.

Neither does she.

In fact, she shifts closer, leaning her hip against the sink and folding her arms over her chest, pushing up her breasts under the tank top she wears. She has on a sweater, a long knit cardigan that falls off her shoulder. She’s sexy in an understated way, with her hair thrown carelessly up in a loose ponytail. Her shorts and top are simple cotton, and I’d probably think the sweater is ugly if not for it being on her body.

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