Page 39 of Make You Mine

As I turned the corner, still fuming and cursing under my breath, I saw Piper sitting on her porch. Her presence would have made me smile if I wasn’t drenched to the bone and freezing my fucking ass off. I hesitated, my mind racing with a million thoughts about what I should say to her. I decided to cut across her lawn to reach her quicker. I had to tell her what I’d said to Richard before she heard it from anyone else.

Bad idea.

My foot hit a slick patch of grass and I went down hard, my feet flying out from under me. I landed with a thud, the wind momentarily knocked out of me, and the rain continued its relentless assault. I groaned, both from the pain and the sheer embarrassment. This day was shit. I should have never left my damn house.

Piper rushed over, her concern evident even through the curtain of rain. “Ren! Are you okay?” she called, her voice cutting through the storm.

I tried to muster some dignity as I pushed myself up, wincing at the mud caking my hands and clothes. “Yeah, just perfect,” I muttered, flinching in pain as I stood up. “Never fucking better.” The gravity of the situation and the pain were momentarily forgotten as my annoyance and grumpiness surged to the forefront. I had trouble deciding what was more irritating—the rain or the fact that Piper had to see me like this.

“Oh my god, you’re all muddy!”

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out,” I drawled, trying to brush off some of the mud. “I slipped.”

Piper extended a hand to help me up, her grip strong and steady despite my awkwardness. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. You can’t stay out here in the rain forever.”

As much as my pride protested, I let her help me to my feet. Once I was up, she took my hand and walked me to my house and damn it, I let her.

Once inside, the warmth from the heater started to seep into my cold, wet bones, and I sighed with a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

“Where’s your bathroom?” She demanded.

I grunted and pointed toward the hallway. With an amused side eye, she tugged me toward it, shoving the door open and yanking me inside. “Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the edge of the tub.

I sat. This bossy side of her was intriguing and weirdly, also kind of hot.

She handed me a towel, and I began to dry myself off, shivering slightly. “Thanks,” I muttered, feeling a bit sheepish.

She nodded, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and amusement. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

“You could say that,” I replied, running the towel over my hair.

“Take a shower. I’ll be in your living room, and then we’ll examine your hands and elbows. You’re bleeding.”

I glanced down at my hands and elbows, noticing the streaks of blood for the first time. “I'm bleeding?” I murmured, more to myself than to Piper. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and suddenly the dull throbbing in my hands intensified, transforming into a sharp, stinging pain. “Shit,” I exclaimed, instinctively clutching my hands together.

“I know. That has to hurt. Go wash up, get warm. I’ll wait.”

“Thanks. But I can take it from here. You don’t have to take care of me. I’ll be okay.”

“All right. If you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I got this. Thank you for helping me up. I’ll be okay.”

“Of course. I’ll see you later.”

She stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and I turned the water on. I was freezing and fucking miserable. I stepped in with a huge sigh.

The hot water cascaded over me, washing away the grime and blood, and the warmth began to soothe my aching muscles. I stood there for a while, letting the steam envelop me, feeling the tension slowly ebb.

My mind wandered to the day's events, the chaos with Richard, the rain, the fall, and how Piper's presence in my home felt right. I liked her here. Her assertiveness was strangely comforting and only a little bit embarrassing.

When I’d used up all the hot water, I turned off the shower, dried myself off, and stepped back into the hallway, feeling slightly more human.

Piper was waiting in the living room with a small first aid kit on the coffee table.

“It’s later,” she said with a smirk. “Do not argue with me. I can see your elbow, and you can’t. Trust me, you need my help.”

My mouth fell open, and suddenly I was acutely aware that I was wearing only a towel.

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