Page 27 of Hero & Villain
I blinked water out of my eyes and struggled to find another handhold. A crack of thunder and lightning lit the world. I was so high, and it was a steep drop down to the next ledge, at least ten feet, maybe twelve.
“Wait up!” Dirk called from my right. “I’ll climb down so I’m under you.”
I scowled and moved faster. He wasn’t my hero. My grip slipped and I fell, scraping my cheek and knee on my way down. I didn’t hit the ground. Instead, I hit Dirk’s chest. Somehow he’d leapt from the side and caught me before grabbing onto a ledge.
I stared into his eyes, water dripping off his nose as I dangled there, both of us suspended by that one muscled arm. “You should stop saying that you aren’t a hero. Only heroes are that stupid, and that lucky,” I gasped.
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head slightly, rain dripping off the end of his nose. “Are you going to keep talking, or are you going to grab onto the rock?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty comfortable here.” I grinned and then searched the rock face for hand holds. I found two and expected him to let go of me, but he kept one hand on my waist as we descended slowly through the insane weather.
The strange thing is that as I climbed, a song started playing in my head, a cello piece that I’d never heard before. I needed to play it. I needed to hear it outside my head, the exultant storm and the treacherous cliff, but alive and awake instead of terrified. I should have been scared, but with him to my left, shadowing my every move, I felt like nothing in the world could touch me. He’d caught me. He’d saved me from the fall when it hadn’t seemed possible or likely.
We got to the ground and ran towards the truck. At least I tried to, but my knee wasn’t holding up my weight, so I ended up hobbling. He didn’t sweep me up in his arms and carry me like I half expected. Maybe he’d torn his rotator cuff in that stupid move that had actually worked. Serve him right, playing hero so idiotically, but hopefully he healed quickly.
When we got to the truck, he opened the door for me.
I snorted. “Such a hero,” but my heart pounded at the sight of those strong hands, scarred, but perfect, and so very capable. They’d saved me. He’d saved me. Again.
He rolled his eyes and pushed me in, slamming the door on me. He climbed in his side and rolled his shoulder a few times before turning on the truck. The heater started blowing on me, and I realized how cold I was. I held my hands out on the hot streams while he reached under the seat and pulled out a metal box.
“Let me see your knee.”
“It’s fine.”
He growled and grabbed my ankle, pulling my leg across his lap. He ripped my jeans, proving just how delicate denim was,not that it hadn’t already been ripped. My knee didn’t look very good since it was bleeding, scraped, and swollen.
He opened the box and took out a packet that he ripped open then took out antibacterial wipes.
I gasped and glared at him. “You had those all along, but you spit on me? You really are an ignoramus.”
He pressed the wipe to my knee and I hissed in pain. He wasn’t being gentle as he irrigated the wound, pouring iodine over it. “You really are adorable when you throw down a slur. It’s how you get guys, isn’t it? It must be. It’s not the pink hair.”
I scowled at him. How dare someone with an obvious pink fetish give me a hard time? “Some guys love pink hair.”
“No, women like pink hair. Men feel like they’re dating cotton candy. Also, do you know what it feels like to run your hands through over-processed hair? There’s nothing better than long, silky hair on a beautiful woman, nothing worse than waking up with straw jabbing you in the face.”
How dare he insult my hair? Just because it was pink didn’t make it crappy. I jabbed his chest. “Like any woman would sleep with you.”
His eyes twinkled. He was intentionally provoking me. “Like any woman wouldn’t sleep with me.”
“Because you’re so boring you put them to sleep or because you’re so clumsy that you knock them unconscious?”
“Because I kiss like this.” He leaned over and brushed his lips over mine.
I froze while his feather-light touch sent ripples of awareness through me. He kept a firm grip on my knee, so I couldn’t really move, and he didn’t press into me, devouring me like he had earlier. It was sweet. Soft. Gentle, like I was something delicate and precious.
He pulled back and continued working on my knee.
I thumped his shoulder with my fist once I got part of my brain back. “What was that for?”
“Heroes always get a kiss when they rescue the princess. I mean, if I’m a hero, you must be the princess.”
I scowled at him. “Right. Princess Pink and her hero Sir Badger. Don’t kiss me again or I’ll put you in traction.”
“I’m already going to be in traction. I don’t know if you know this, but the laws of physics weren’t really with us on that extremely heroic rescue.”
“Oh, shut up.”
