Page 49 of Rookie Season
The door—it’s not locked.
It swings open.
My mouth goes wide, and I inhale sharply, ready to scream, ready to bring the star down on the intruder.
I swipe as hard as I can.
The weapon connects with flesh, sinking in a little.
“Oof. Shit.” The intruder hisses.
That voice is familiar. Oh no…
“Ryan?!” I gasp.
“Easy, ninja.” He winces as he steps inside.
I can see his outline against the snow as my eyes adjust. “What were you doing out there?!”
“Securing the perimeter.”
“That’s a thing you heard on TV.”
He steps inside, and I shut the door, lock it, and hit the light switch closest to the door. He peels off his jacket, probing his chest with a hand.
“Did I get you?” I feel sick. I just attacked a member of the world champion Denver Kodiaks. My dad will kill me.
I’ll never live it down.
“You stabbed me with… the tree star. That’s festive.”
“You’re delusional. Come on.” I grab his arm and tug him toward the kitchen. I debate turning on more lights and opt for the little one over the sink by the window. “Take off your shirt.”
His brows lift, but he doesn’t say anything when I shoot him a dark look.
There’s an angry red scrape an inch long.
“Have you had a tetanus shot?”
“Yes, doctor.”
At least that’s something. “Don’t move.”
I go to the bathroom to grab first aid supplies. In my bag, there’s gauze, antiseptic, and liquid bandage.
“For a woman who claims not to care, you’re very prepared,” he comments when I return.
I rummage under the sink, only finding a clean dishcloth. That’ll have to do.
The blood comes off in a smear, replaced with more in a couple seconds. Dammit.
“Sit down.”
I grab a chair, and he sinks into it. That’s not better, because we’re practically at eye level now. I’m a little higher, and if I thought his face looked good from below, he’s even more handsome from this new angle.
Ryan’s lips are curved at the corner.
“Are you enjoying this?” I mutter.
