I squeezed a little bit of water at the area where her skin met the lining of her coat, and started gently pulling it back.
She said, “Deal,” and then swallowed a groan. I added more water, cleansing the skin as carefully as I could. The more I saw of her back the angrier I became. Her skin was already purpling in places, and I felt each scratch as if it was on my own skin. I inhaled sharply, and it felt like my lungs had been filled with fire. I couldn’t see straight through my rage, and I wanted to go straight back to the bar and find that guy. He wasn’t bleeding nearly enough.
I squeezed the washcloth in my fist and said, “Let’s hear a secret then.”
We both needed the distraction.
She took a deep breath and said, “I was a cheerleader in high school.”
12
Max
You were a what?”
I always enjoyed shocking people with that, and it helped to distract a little bit from the pain.
“You heard me, Golden Boy. I was a cheerleader.”
His hands paused in pulling the jacket from my back, and I was thankful for the reprieve.
“I’m trying to picture it,” he said. “But I just . . .”
He trailed off and I asked, “What? Can’t imagine me in a cheer skirt?”
“No, that’s an image that I can conjure all too easily.”
“Of course you can. Men.” I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t mind so much. There was something empowering about knowing that I could attract a guy like him. Even if he had no idea the crazy he was getting himself into.
“But seriously . . . a cheerleader?”
That seemed like a lifetime ago. A different me.
I hated thinking about the past. Every time I did, I felt heavy, like gravity had doubled and instead of just holding me to the Earth, it flattened me.
I couldn’t explain why, but the words flowed with him. I said, “I spent a long time pretending to be something I wasn’t.”
He started pulling at the material again, and I could feel the stretch of my skin followed by the trickle of fresh blood. He wiped the cloth over the cut tenderly, but my skin was so sensitive. I tried my hardest to keep from flinching when he touched me, but I failed a few times.
“At least you stopped pretending. A lot of people don’t.”
Had I really? I’d just traded one kind of pretending for another.
I needed a distraction . . . from the past and the pain. I clenched my eyelids closed, and said, “Your turn, Golden Boy. Sing for me.”
He dipped the washcloth in the bowl again, and I listened to the droplets falling as he wrung out the rag. The water was warm and soothing on my skin until he started pulling at the material again. I held my breath, and heard him start to sing.
His voice was strong and clear. He sang quietly, but the deep notes rumbled in his chest, and it gave me chills.
“No matter how close, you are always too far My eyes are drawn everywhere you are.”
His knuckles brushed my bare back, and my muscles tensed and shivered like a plucked guitar string. My breath caught in my throat, and I barely felt him pull my coat the rest of the way off.
He rewet the rag, and I waited for him to start singing again, but he didn’t. He sponged at one scrape, and then another . . . silent.
“Is that all I get?” I asked. It wasn’t nearly enough.
“As bizarre and . . . stimulating your cheertastic confession was, I’m going to need a little bit more before I start baring my soul.”
I could hear the smile in his voice. The greedy bastard.
I gave an exaggerated sigh. “I can’t think of what else to tell you.”
“I believe the word dirty was thrown around earlier.”
I was unnerved by how scared I was at the thought of spilling my secrets to him. Normally, I could care less what people thought of me, but with him it was different.
“I got my first kiss from my babysitter’s son when I was five and he was seven. He kissed me and then pulled my hair.”
He chuckled, and dabbed at a scrape just above the waistline of my skirt.
“We have different definitions of dirty.”
I smirked and added, “To this day, nothing turns me on more than when a guy pulls my hair.”
There was silence above me, and his hand stilled against my back. I would have killed to see his expression.
He cleared his throat, stood, and put a few feet between us.
“Bandages?” he asked.
I’d reduced him to one-word communications.
“Bathroom cabinet. At the end of the hall.”
I bit down on my lip but couldn’t stop the wide smile that stretched across my face. I told myself that there was nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting between Cade and me as long as it didn’t cross beyond that. Mace flirted with other girls all the time. Neither of us was the jealous type, so it was cool. And Cade would be out of my life after tomorrow anyway.
He took several minutes to return to the living room, and by then I’d convinced myself that being here alone with him wasn’t a big deal. Our kiss wasn’t a big deal. The nauseatingly goofy grin on my face wasn’t a big deal. I deserved to relax and loosen up after the day I’d just had.