Page 36 of Dearest Protector

I felt like I’d just been sucker-punched in the gut.

Did she really have no idea what my priorities were when it came to her?

If not, it was about time to make myself perfectly clear. Maybe I’d taken this wholegiving her some distance and acting like a friendthing a little too far.

Screw the entire idea of staying impartial.

I didn’t have that kind of control when it came to Ariel.

“Why in the fuck didn’t you tell me that you weren’t done with your medical treatment? You told me you’d gotten your follow-up care,” I grilled her, pissed that I’d never dug deeper into her injuries.

I should have, knowing what I knew about her accident.

The powerful protective instincts I’d always had toward Ariel, the obsessive feelings that I’d managed to keep a handle on until right now, came roaring to the surface.

I hated all of the fucking pain Ariel had been through, but I couldn’t keep ignoring it and telling myself it was over for her. It was beyond time for me to deal with the past, at least to some extent.

“I’m fine, Ben,” she said in a soothing voice. “It’s one last thing that will probably need to be done, and it usually takes a year to get to the point where the hardware can be removed. Technically, I did do all of my follow-up care.”

Her rational response didn’t help me at all.

“That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have been following up on this, goddammit!” I said impatiently, irritated with myself for not realizing that Ariel’s medical treatment wasn’tcompletelyover.

Her eyes widened at my tone, but I didn’t give a shit. I was done trying to pretend that her well-being wasn’t my first and only priority.

I moved over to the couch and sat beside her. I slammed her laptop closed before putting it on the coffee table.

Despite her protests, I swung her around so she could put her feet in my lap.

I suddenly realized that one other thing I should have noticed is that Ariel always—every moment we were together—had her socks on her feet.

“Either you take off these socks or I’m doing it for you,” I told her gruffly.

“No,” she squeaked, obviously alarmed. “It’s just my right foot, and it’s ugly, Ben. Really ugly.”

I froze and slowly turned my head to look at her face.

“Do you honestly think I give a fuck what it looks like?” I rasped, trying to keep my tone measured so I wouldn’t reveal just how irritated I was at the moment. “Do you really think I’m that damn superficial? We’re supposed to be friends, Ariel. Do you think I care if you have scars from your surgery?”

Hell, I wasn’t mad ather.

I was furious because this accident had happened to her in the first place.

I was also terrified that something else bad might happen to her if she didn’t take care of this issue as soon as possible.

She shook her head. “I don’t think that. I know we’re friends. I don’t wantanyoneto see it. Katie only recently saw it for the first time. It’s not something I want everyone to see.”

I scowled. “I’m noteveryone. I’m your friend, the guy who doesn’t give a shit about what your foot looks like. I just need to understand what you’re dealing with, Ariel. I can’t really understand if I don’t see it.”

Her scars from her accident were part of her, part of her past, what had made her into the incredible woman she was today.

Everythingabout Ariel was beautiful.

The only thing that bothered me about her having scars was the fact that she’d suffered a great deal of pain before those injuries had healed.

I pulled off her left sock first, and then her right.

Ariel’s expression was filled with anxiety and horror, but she didn’t fight me.

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