Actual Stop (Agent O’Connor #1)(19)
“Damn it.” I sighed and cast a helpless glance around the floor, trying to spot the earring that’d been pulled out. I wadded up the towel and threw it on the ground, so I had something to kneel on as I searched. It took another minute or so, but eventually I located the rogue piece of jewelry.
“Aha!” I murmured triumphantly as I closed my fingers around it.
“Lose something?” someone asked from behind me.
Startled, I flew to my feet. Having not bothered to look before I leapt, so to speak, I bashed my forehead on the corner of an open locker on the way up. White-hot pain slashed through me as I drew in a hissing breath. I raised my hand immediately to the source of the agony and closed my eyes.
“Ow.” I squeezed my eyes shut even more tightly. Holy hell, that hurt! And I was now battling mortification as well. Terrific.
“Oh, my God, Ryan!” Allison rushed to my side. “Are you okay?”
As my eyes were still closed, I couldn’t see her, but the touch of her hand closing over my wrist was unmistakable. My pulse started racing, and the ragged inhalation I drew now had nothing to do with pain.
“Let me see it,” Allison said gently.
“It’s nothing.” My teeth were clenched against the sting, and I was absolutely humiliated.
“Oh, stop it. Let me see.”
The hand on my wrist pulled lightly, and I allowed her to remove my own hand from my head. I opened my eyes to look at her, which only made my heart start pounding faster. Her skin was sweaty and flushed, as though she’d just completed a fairly strenuous workout, too. Her hair was pulled back into a messy, haphazard ponytail, some stray wisps of which had escaped and now floated around her head, creating a chaotic halo. She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I silently scolded myself for even entertaining the notion.
“Oh, Ryan,” she exclaimed. She took a step closer—which had the added benefit/disadvantage of putting her lips scant inches from mine—and frowned at my forehead. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s nothing,” I said again. My humiliation hadn’t lessened. Neither had any of the pain.
Allison snorted as she went to a gym bag on the floor and pulled out a small pouch. Deftly, she retrieved an antibacterial wipe and dabbed at my head. I winced at the sting but made no noise.
Allison glanced into my eyes. “Does it hurt?”
“Mmm.” I fixed my eyes on the locker-room wall over her shoulder and concentrated on showing no emotion, belying the maelstrom swirling inside me.
After what seemed like an eternity, she stopped dabbing at my forehead and tossed the wipe onto the floor, where it landed on top of my previously discarded towel. She made no move to increase the distance between us and took a long moment to look me up and down. I was now acutely aware that I was still in my underwear and wished I could cover myself without revealing my feelings of vulnerability.
“Wow, Ryan! You look fantastic.”
“Uh…Thanks.”
Her smile widened into a full-fledged grin, and she ran one thumb lazily across my cheek. “Why are you all red?” Her teasing tone caused a new tumult in my already racing heart.
It was an old joke between us, and she knew damn well why. How could she not? I absolutely hated that she was enjoying this so much. My face only got hotter as she pointed out my rosy hue, and I tried not to revel in the tingles that the brush of her finger had sparked in me. I gritted my teeth, turned on beyond belief and completely annoyed with both of us.
In an effort to escape the awkwardness of the situation, I cleared my throat and sidled by her, snagging the bloody wipe and carelessly discarded packaging as I went. “What are you doing here?” I asked, completely ignoring her question. “I thought I was picking you up at your hotel.”
She leaned casually against the row of lockers and folded her arms across her chest. She was openly studying me—all of me—which was very distracting. My face was on fire, and I’d started to sweat, to say nothing of the moisture collecting in other places. I set my shoulders and my jaw and looked her in the eye.
“I just came in to run the bridge with Eddie. We have a countdown meeting today at eighteen-hundred hours, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to fit it in after that.” She shrugged as if the subject didn’t interest her.
I wandered over to the row of sinks lining one wall and turned my back on her to study my new wound in the mirror. I frowned at my reflection and sighed. The cut was extremely noticeable. I pursed my lips and prodded the gash experimentally, wincing at the splinters of pain that exploded at the touch.
In the mirror, I saw Allison step up behind me. She leaned over and put her hands over top of mine to still them, and the majority of her body pressed up against my back. I froze and forced myself not to gasp. Once the initial haze of arousal subsided and I was thinking clearly, I spun around so we were face-to-face. I narrowed my eyes at her. What the hell was she playing at? She knew damn well what kind of turmoil her caress induced, yet she did it anyway.
“You shouldn’t poke at it,” Allison said softly, staring into my eyes. She brushed a lock of hair back off my forehead, and I fought the urge to shiver at the rush that ignited just about everywhere. We continued to look at one another for a long moment, the tension between us thick and heavy. “You might need stitches.” Her hand moved to cup my cheek. The touch was brief, there and gone in an instant. But the sensation was seared into my soul.