Page 27 of Fashionista's Playbook

Fuck.Vin was right, I had a thing for my assistant.

“Now, tell me what happened.” She angled her head, a loose strand of hair brushing across the smooth line of her neck.

“Just tweaked it somehow, banged up my hand at practice or something.” A lie, but I wasn’t about to get her mixed up in my family shit.

I should turn around, back to the tape, and let her work in peace. Instead, I watched her as she studied me.

Her eyebrows knit together and she stood again, crossing to the couch. I didn’t pull my hand away in time.

“You’re bleeding.” She snatched the first aid kit from beneath her desk and crossed the room. “Let me see it.”

Flexing my hand had broken the skin on my knuckles back open. Letting her look at it would invite more questions, the sort I didn’t want the hassle of answering. But the prospect of her touch was enticing. I held myself still as she picked my hand up and lifted the icepack off.

Her fingers were soft, warm, and moved gently over my skin. It was a war with myself not to think of her touching other parts of my body.

She smelled of honeysuckle, and up this close, I drank it in. Good God, I hadn’t wanted a woman this bad in years. And not just any woman,her. Everything about her attracted me.

When I glanced from where her pale hand held mine, she caught my gaze and narrowed her eyes. “How’s the other guy look?”

I snorted a laugh and winked, thinking of the shattered wood scattered around the ball court out back. “Worse.”

“Sure.” She wasn’t buying it. “I can clean this up and put a bandage on it.”

The antiseptic sting wouldn’t be enough punishment for the dirty thoughts that bounced around in my brain when she touched me.

Her face morphed from one emotion to another in such rapid succession I knew she was battling her curiosity.

“Say it.” I teased.

She flicked her gaze to mine, her face going red again. “I’m sorry, I really am. It’s just, I saw you when you came in and you were fine and now your hand is messed up and your shoulder and I just…” She blew out a breath and stepped back. “Worried, I guess. But really, it's none of my business. Again, I’m sorry.” She cringed. “I’m babbling, I apologize for that too.”

I leaned my head back on the couch and chuckled. “It’s fine. Nothing to be worried about. I was acting like a kid, took my frustration out on somethinginstead of my brother’s face.”

Her embarrassment faded and something darker replaced it, before she pulled her face together.

“You’d be horrible at poker.” I pointed out, not bothering to move my hand from hers.

Worrying her lip, she sat primly at the edge of my couch and studied our joined hands before setting mine back to the couch.

The instantaneous sense of loss smacked me in the chest. It wasn’t just sex Moriah Stanhope made me think of, but the physical intimacy of real relationship. I might have wondered more about that, overanalyzed it. Except, one of the emotions I’d seen was fear. I wanted nothing more than to fix that.

The urge to protect people, fix the things that were broken, applied to everyone in my life. Not just her, unlike Vin implied. Hell, that very thing was the reason I put up with his crap.

“I heard your brother speed out of here, saw you come in with your hand bloody…” She smiled, apologies written in her eyes. “It really isn’t any of my business, but I hope you weren’t arguing about me.”

“No.” I said sharply, too fast.

She sat straighter with obvious worry. Like she’d done something wrong.

“Why would you even think that?” I softened my tone.

Had Vin done something else when I was gone? I didn’t worry he’d hurt her, physically. But he wasn’t one to watch his mouth.

“I don’t want to cause any problems.” She turned her focus to the paused screen on the wall. “He was a jerk when he came by the other night, said some things.”

The flare of anger roared back, licking across my muscles, burning inside. “Like what?” If he’d been an ass to her, the next swing I tookwouldbe at his head.

“It’s not a big deal, he wasn’t happy I’d stayed over. I just wanted to make sure you two weren’t fighting about that.”

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