Page 90 of The Refiner

“Why?”

He swallows carefully, tracking my methodical movements as I let my legs fall open. “Hand me the ice pack.”

When all he can do is stare, I reach out and grab it myself, along with the towel, and place it over my hoo-ha—which doesn’t appreciate the freezing temperature.

But I’m making a point here.

“What are you doing?” Astor’s hand reaches out, like he’s going to snatch off the ice pack, but then he sees the warning in my eyes if he even so much as touches it.

“You need to put your pants back on,” he says instead.

I ignore him, staring at the TV, spotting a nineties romcom. “What’s it worth to you?”

Astor looks at my exposed skin and back at the ice pack I dropped for him to use.

“All you need to do is ice for ten to fifteen minutes. Basically, the introduction of this movie.”

He doesn’t move. Instead, he keeps his gaze trained on the ice pack. “You shouldn’t be icing yourself there.”

“Trust me, before you, my vagina was colder than Elsa’s castle. This is nothing.” I shrug. “But if you’re feeling chivalrous, you can join me, so I’m not the only one with her legs spread in this bedroom.”

I can tell when he finally surrenders. His head drops to his chest and his shoulders relax. “I’m only doing it this one time,” he warns.

“Well, things are gonna get weird because I’m going to ice mine several times a day.”

He groans and stands.

“Go ahead and take one of those pain pills while you’re over there. Seems like the nausea is passing, since you’re arguing more.”

He flashes me a bored look and grabs the pill bottle. “I need to know you will wake me if Tatum needs me.”

I won’t because he needs the rest, but I know he’s looking for security here. “I’ll wake you if I can’t help her.”

I’m not waking him just because she cries.

Astor nods tersely and takes out the medicine, swallowing it down quickly. He tosses the ice pack on the bed with a huff. It makes me smile.

“Do you want me to close my eyes?”

I wave my hand at his sweatpants. I haven’t seeneverythingsince the procedure. His cock could be seriously swollen and he may not want me to look.

“No. You insisted on making this awkward. Who am I to change the pace now that it’s my turn?”

Just in case, I keep my eyes focused on the TV.

“Just so you know, I won’t forget this.” He says the words more like a threat and less like a thank you. But I still treat it as a thank you.

“You’re welcome. Anything for Tatum’s Papa.” And anything to make sure he’s okay and not in pain. It’s funny how love works.

Astor grunts and climbs into bed, lying next to me with his back against the headboard. I try not to look when he opens his legs and places the ice gently over his underwear, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a few deep breaths.

“Are you in pain?” I finally ask when he opens his eyes.

“No, just uncomfortable.”

It’s better than a lie.

“What movie is this?” He tries acting like this is a normal night for us, which I can appreciate. It’s not often Dr. Potter is vulnerable, but he’s allowing me to see him in this state—something he didn’t allow his brothers to do.

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