Page 55 of Fool Me

His hand catches my waist instantly.

I feel his fingers tighten on my hip, keeping me steady. “That was a wobble.” His voice is low, almost too close.

I blink up at him. “Barely.”

His lips press together. “Harlowe, you could have a concussion.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” It comes out a pathetic whine, but there must be enough genuine dread there for him to hear.

His thumb brushes over my hip bone. “What am I going to do with you?”

I sigh, sagging slightly into his grip, which he doesn’t let up on. “You could just stay with me.”

His jaw works like he’s holding back, but when he speaks, it’s calm, steady, and serious. “Stubborn as a mule. Are you going to fight me on everything? Or can you follow directions?”

My body heats at the gruffness in his tone. I hide it behind an indigent huff. “That depends on how overbearing you plan to be.”

“Only slightly.” His fingers haven’t left my waist and his lips twitch like he’s thinking about smiling.

“I’ll do my best.” I roll my eyes, but the movement hurts. “Just get me home.”

He whistles for Echo, clipping him back on his lead, one arm looped around my waist to keep me steady as we walk.

I’d like to brush him off and tell him it’s for nothing, but fuck, my head hurts and I like the feeling of his hands on me a little too much.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

ATLAS

There’s a saying about nurses being the world’s worst patients. I can attest to the truth of that statement, at least where former nurses are concerned. Her promise to cooperate was complete bullshit.

“I can’t just leave my car here.” She pouts, her lips pulled down in a frown that makes me want to give her anything she asks for.

“You can’t drive.”

Her shoulders sag, defeated by the slow hike back as she sits on the tailgate of my truck while I loosen the laces on her boots. She won’t admit it, but I’m sure her head is throbbing.

And if she keeps nibbling her lip while she looks at the powder blue SUV like it’s her flesh and blood, there will be nothing left to kiss. I shake that thought away.

“She’s my baby.”

Echo whines like he’s disgruntled by that statement and I pat his head because I get it. I wish Harlowe would look at me with that kind of devout admiration.

“I’m asking you to leave it behind. I just said you can’t drive.”

She huffs out a frustrated sigh.

“I’ll drive her back if you’ll let me, but you’ve gotta tell me why she means so much to you.”

“But your truck?—”

Gripping her waist, I lift her off the tailgate. The movement is enough to break off the sentence. My hands linger until I’m sure she’s steady on her feet, and maybe a second longer, because it’s hard to pull back from her. Each time she lets me touch her, even when it’s fake or friendly, I get a little more hooked—a little more fucked up over her.

And it’s just setting in that I agreed to spend the night keeping an eye on her. That’s definitely not going to help. Six-hundred-odd square feet of space is going to make it impossible to keep my distance.

And I have to keep my distance. There’s a chance she’s got a concussion. She doesn’t need me being a creep when she should be resting. Besides, there’s no reason for me to be anything more than a friend and caretaker in the privacy of her home.

---