Kissed Blind (Hot Pursuit #2)(14)

He exhaled, and I smelled his sweet, caramel scented breath. I glanced at his lips again, the unbidden memory plump and tempting. We stared at one another for a beat too long, and my racing heart threatened to short circuit my brain, but logic trickled in. From the wrestling matches at the gym, to compliments about the color of my eyes, and to this moment, he would eventually laugh and let me know he was teasing me. I pulled away.

“I… uh… sorry about that.” I smiled and dampened a fresh cotton ball.

“No, that was my fault.” He smiled crookedly. “You have a stick I could bite on?”

I shook my head. “I’m almost finished, you big baby. When it stops fizzing I’ll know I’ve killed all the bacteria that was on the knife.”

“Well, hurry up, woman.” He straightened his spine again and braced himself.

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll take my sweet ass time.” I blotted peroxide over the wound a couple more times, and when it stopped reacting, I covered it with some gauze and taped it down. “There, all better. Now, it shouldn’t get infected.”

“I’m forever indebted to you for your services.” He snatched his blood-stained, stiff shirt off the table.

“You want to borrow a shirt? I have something that should fit you.”

“You mean put on one of Gabe’s shirts? No thanks, it might burn my skin.”

He began slipping his shirt over his head, and I snatched it out of his hand. “Oh my God, you’re so stupid.” I tossed the shirt in the trash, despite his protests, and found an old t-shirt in my closet. I handed it to him while he sulked. “Just put it on already. I swear egos and pride are man’s biggest downfalls.”

He pulled the shirt down over his chest, and it clung more tightly to his form than it did Gabe’s. “You should put some ice on your eye. It’s getting pretty red.”

“I will.” I gathered the soiled items off the table. “Just what I need, a black eye.” I tossed everything except the towel into the trash. I grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and put them up to my eye. “You wanna play some cards?” He hesitated, but I cut him off before he could speak. “Let me rephrase that. We’re playing cards. Turn your chair around and get ready to get schooled.”

He did as I asked and glanced at me over his shoulder. “You’re not spending the night with Mr. Wonderful?”

“Knock it off, would you? He’s working late, so lucky for you I’m all yours tonight.” I dug through my kitchen drawer and grabbed a deck of cards.

“He’s been out of town and working lots of late nights lately.”

“Yeah, so?” I shrugged.

“So, you sure he’s working?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” My fingers halted their search, and I jerked my head back.

“I’m just saying those are some pretty standard responses that can mean something else.”

I curled my lips, and a bitter tang entered my mouth. The thought of Gabe cheating on me was one I’d never entertained. I slapped the cards down on the table. “He’s not cheating on me. That’s completely ridiculous. Shuffle the cards.”

“All right, if you say so.” He turned the deck of cards over in his hands.

“God, I do. Quit trying to start trouble. Things have been great between the two of us lately, really great.” I walked around the table and sat down in my chair, slamming it to the floor while I scooted forward.

He held up his hands. “All right. Forget I said anything.”

“Thanks, I will. But like you’d even understand what it’s like to be in a relationship.”

“Oh God, can we please not come back to this discussion again?” He groaned.

“Ho, ho, ho… sounds like I struck a nerve.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“No, it’s just that we’ve talked about this before… plenty of times.”

“Yeah, so? You’re still bed hopping. Nature has us wired to find a mate, you know?”

“Look, you have no idea what I’m doing, and whether I’m bed hopping or not. Nature tells you to find a mate. Maybe it tells me something else.” He flipped open the deck and spilled the cards into his palm.

I shook my head. “I’m not buying that. It’s a copout.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I asked you a while ago when the last time was that you were in a relationship and you brushed me off with some bullshit answer.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Shut up, please, and quit trying to get off topic. I actually thought about something recently and I have a theory.”

He groaned. “Here we go. Give it to me, Dr. Phil.”

“Didn’t you date that Stacie girl in high school for a little while?” In one of my late night think sessions, I vaguely remembered Vance having had a girlfriend in high school. One of my friends at the time gushed over how cute he was but was destroyed because he was off the market. That was the only time I could ever remember him being with someone longer than five minutes. It was a blip on the radar, but shortly after that, Vance was never tied down to anyone again. Something had to of happened.

“Oh please, I don’t need your psychoanalysis. That was a million years ago.”