Clipped Wings (Clipped Wings, #1)

“I can call Ian and ask him for a ride in or something,” Tenley said, fiddling with the zipper on my hoodie.

“The one who works at The Elbo Room? No fucking way are you getting in a car with that guy.”

“Pardon?”

I sounded like a possessive asshole. Because I was one. I toned down the douche-ness a touch. “I don’t trust him. He’s slimy and you’re medicated and in pain. I’d feel a lot better if I could drive you in and pick you up.” TK bumped her head against my shin, so I scratched under her chin.

“Ian knows I’m not available.”

“Good to know. But I’m still not interested in you getting in his car. He probably drives a piece of crap.”

“I’m pretty sure his car isn’t the issue.”

“Your safety and my peace of mind are important.”

“Fine, you can drive me in.”

“Great,” I said, like it was ever actually up for debate. “You’ll have to wear loose clothing, and no bra—it would mess with the tattoo.”

I left Tenley alone to get dressed, taking TK with me. She came out of her room ten minutes later. Her eyes weren’t as glassy, but her outfit was an issue. She was wearing a pair of form-fitting yoga pants. Her shirt, although looser than usual, gave me an amazing view of her nipples and the lovely little barbells piercing them.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “No way are you meeting with the Nerd Herd dressed in that.”

“I’m sorry, the what?”

“Those dudes you work with.”

“The Nerd Herd? That’s kind of mean. What does that say about me if you call the guys I’m working with something so derogatory?” Tenley frowned. “And what’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I look like I’m going to the gym.”

I seriously doubted Tenley was the kind of girl to hit the treadmill. She just didn’t seem the type. In a different life, before her accident, I could see her as one of those girls who spent her free time hanging out in a park, soaking up the sun while reading something profound. That wasn’t the point, though.

“I find your intelligence incredibly sexy, in case you were unaware. However uneducated I might be, I’m smart enough to know those guys aren’t choosing to work with you just because you’re hot, which makes me justifiably nervous when you’re around them.” I couldn’t believe I was admitting this shit. I pretty much just told her I was insecure. It took her only a fraction of a second to process my inadvertent disclosure, reinforcing how bright she was.

“But you’re brilliant.”

“I barely finished high school.”

“That was circumstantial. You and I both know that doesn’t mean anything. Some of the most renowned geniuses had difficulty in high school. Look at Einstein.”

“I’m not Einstein.”

“No, you have better hair.”

“I don’t even know why we’re talking about this,” I said, uncomfortable with the topic. “The issue is your nipples. They’re practically poking my eyes out. You need to cover up.”

She looked down at her chest to verify her nipples were indeed quite pokey. “I have a jacket.”

“But you’ll take it off,” I pointed out.

She threw up her hands and turned around, heading back to her room with a huff.

“Wait.” I unzipped my hoodie and shrugged it off. “You can wear this.”

She scanned my shirt, her mouth turning up in a cynical smile. “Do people actually ask that?”

“You’d be surprised.” The shirt had been a gift from Cassie. It read, “YES. It hurts. Any more stupid questions?” I held out the hoodie, and she pushed her arms through the sleeves.

It was too big on her. I rolled the cuffs twice before her hands appeared, but it did the job, covering her braless chest. And it was loose, which made it doubly effective. I admired the way my hoodie looked on her; STRYKER was emblazoned on the back in giant black letters, bordered in gold and set against red fabric. Now she was marked by me both under and over her clothes.

“It’s huge.”

“But it works.”

She rubbed the sleeve on her cheek and inhaled. “It smells like you.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good. I like the way you smell.”

“As much as I like the way you taste?” I asked, using her hips to pull her closer.

“Hayden,” she admonished, her palms flattened on my chest. Her protest was feeble and a little breathy, so she didn’t mean it.

I leaned down to kiss her. There was no way I would make it a week.

*

Tenley was surprisingly lucid under the influence of Tylenol 3s. Although, based on the severity of her accident and the contents of her medicine cabinet, she’d taken a multitude of much stronger prescriptions for quite some time before moving to something less potent. T3s knocked me on my ass. Although I rarely took medication for anything.

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