Page 12 of The Illicit Play
Fuck!
“Hey.” Wily gives me a distracted nod, looking up the stairs in obvious frustration. “You seen my lil’ sis up there?”
“Oh, uh…” I glance over my shoulder, swallowing and trying to keep a level head on this thing.
Yes, you saw his sister. That’s it. You just saw her and talked to her. No crime in that.
“She took off, and I want to make sure she’s okay. She hurt her finger.”
“Yeah, I saw that.” I nod, forcing a smile to try and ease his tension. “I patched her up, and I think she’s gone to her room to study.”
“So she’s okay? The cut wasn’t bad?”
“Nah, just a decent nick. Those things always bleed a lot, but fingers heal up quickly.”
Wily’s shoulders slump in obvious relief. “Thanks, man. I got…” He huffs. “Distracted. And then when I looked up to find her, she was gone.”
“No problem. I found her in the bathroom, probably looking for a Band-Aid or something. Anyway, I gave her one from my stash. Made sure the wound was clean. You know.” I shrug, trying to play it casual and not let slip that feeling her breath skim across my cheek when I leaned over to wrap the Band-Aid around her finger was the fucking sexiest thing ever.
Which is insane, because scientifically, breaths are nothing more than nitrogen, oxygen, and carbon dioxide. Throw in a little water vapor and I should be repulsed by the idea of gasses hitting my skin like that, but fuuuuuuuck.
Yep, losing my mind. That’s what is happening right now.
But I’ve got to keep that shit on lockdown, because I can’t go complaining to Wily that his sister is too damn sexy and I need her to move out because being around her is awakening some kind of primal instinct inside me that I didn’t even know existed.
“Thanks so much for looking after her.” Wily gives me a half-hearted grin. “I hate that I’m injured right now.” His lame smile turns into a wince. “And I got shitty with her when she couldn’t reach the first-aid box in the kitchen and she wouldn’t let me get up and help her.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “I fucking hate this, man.”
“Hey.” I rest a hand on his shoulder. “This is temporary.Those crutches will be gone soon, and you’ll be running up and down these stairs just like before.”
Wily flashes me a closed-mouth smile before nodding, then shouting up the stairs, “Hey, butt face! You okay?”
I can’t help a soft snicker as we wait for Blake’s reply.
It takes a moment longer than I thought it would… unless she didn’t hear?—
“All good, shithead! Now leave me alone. I’m trying to study up here.”
“Got it. I’ll help Satch with the rest of the dinner prep, then,” Wily calls back up to her.
Her laughter is muffled as she shouts back, “Probably safest. Unless you want your salad with a side of Blake.”
Yes, please.
I swallow, darting my eyes at Wily and hoping he can’t read minds.
But he’s too busy laughing. “Gross. No thanks.” He shares a bemused look with me before calling up the stairs again. “Love you, loser!”
“Yeah, yeah, love you, too, jackass.”
He snickers and grins at me, obviously relieved that his little fight with Blake has been resolved so easily.
“You sticking around for dinner?” He points at me.
“Nah, I’m gonna go for a walk.”
He gives me a quizzical frown, but I just shake my head and walk past him, not wanting to explain.
How can I?
