Kean squatted in front of me and reached around my butt, removing a black leather bag from the car floor. He unzipped the top and pulled out a package of antiseptic towelettes along with tweezers.
With his left hand he tapped the inside of my right thigh. “Your knees have pieces of gravel embedded under the skin. I’m going to use the tweezers to remove them and clean the area with the antiseptic wipes so your wounds don’t become infected.”
At the first touch of the tweezers, I whimpered.
Kean’s gaze shot up from the leg he was working on. He looked much more concerned than I liked so I scowled at him. I felt the need to prove to him that I was kickass brave but honestly I was a wuss when it came to blood.
Looking back down he said, “Your left leg is the better of the two. I’m more concerned with the right one.”
I checked out my right leg. Sure enough, there was a good size cut just under the knee.
Tears of humiliation leaked onto my face. Between seeing Kean with the bouncy boob stripper and being attacked by squirrels, I had lost the ability to hold myself together. I sniffled and swiped at my cheek with the back of my hand.
Finished with the left leg, Kean moved to the right one and removed gravel from the injured area first.
“I’m starting to think you enjoy picking fights,” he said dryly.
There was more truth to his comment than I would ever admit. “The squirrels started it.”
A sharp sting came from where he was working, which made me flinch.
“Stop moving,” he demanded.
I froze and stared at the top of his head.
This was all his fault. None of me would hurt if it hadn’t been for him, him and his stupid big-breasted running date.
The question that was driving me to the brink of madness fell off the edge of my tongue. “Who was the blonde?”
“A patient,” he quickly replied without meeting my eyes. His answer made me feel a thousand times worse. “Why? Are you jealous?”
I ran the back of my hand under my nose. I was aware he had a reputation for sleeping with patients but somewhere in my pathetic little heart, I had hoped I was important enough that he wouldn’t feel the need to do it again.
I had been wrong—so, so wrong. And he was a dick. A huge dick. A dick that tried to warn me but I fell all over him nonetheless. I should have stayed on the fucking couch. If I had, I would have never known he had already moved on. I occupied myself with a speck of dirt on my wrist.
Placing his hand behind my knee, Kean skimmed the tips of his fingers up my inner thigh making me break out all over in goose bumps.
“Ciaran, I asked if you were jealous?” he repeated.
Sniffling again, I searched my head for the best answer. Of course I was jealous. The truth was, my jealousy was so thick I could suffocate from the fumes but I didn’t want to admit that it mattered a ton how easily he had written me off.
I resolved to take a more roundabout approach with my reply. “Why would I be jealous? It’s not like you and I have a commitment to each other. We aren’t in a relationship. We aren’t even friends. I don’t even like you.”
“So, you don’t care if I fucked her?” he asked.
Looking over his head at the water in the distance, I threw as much repulsion into my voice as I could muster. “I don’t care who you fuck just as much as you don’t care who I fuck. In fact, I had someone between my thighs last night,” I lied.
A strong burning sensation sent me yelping out of the seat. Kean’s hand slapped on my thigh and locked my butt back down against the leather.
“Kean, you’re hurting me,” I gasped.
“I’m not trying to hurt you. I trying to fucking help you but you probably shouldn’t lie to me while I’m holding an alcohol wipe.”
I glanced down at his hands. A bloodied piece of gauze was hovering right above my knee.
Guilt spread through me like a fire through dried grass. I hated lying.
“Yes. I’m jealous. Are you happy?”
“No, I’m not happy,” he sighed. “Ciaran, I didn’t fuck the blonde. She is a patient who I happened to run into while I was jogging. You really think I’m the type of asshole who would spend twelve hours with my mouth all over your body to toss you aside for someone else?”
“I’m not sure what to think anymore,” I admitted quietly.
Pulling a small tube from his bag, he applied some gel onto both knees. When he was done, he covered my cuts with bandages.
Patting my thigh, he stood and opened the door to the backseat removing a t-shirt which he dropped over his head.
“Is your car close?” he asked as he repacked his bag and placed it back on the car floor.
“No, I didn’t drive. I only live a couple of blocks from here so I walked.” I pulled myself out of the seat and almost fell backwards when the pain in my legs surged.
Kean reacted swiftly by placing a hand against my stomach to help steady my swaying body.
“Get in the car. I’ll drop you off so you don’t have to walk.”
“That’s okay. I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t want to waste any of your precious time.” I couldn’t help it. I had to throw back his words from our last argument.
A shadow crossed his face. “I have never met someone so stubborn in my life. Get in the fucking car so I can drop you off,” he barked.
He looked hellbent on making sure I did what he said, so I quickly scooted back into the seat. Kean shut the door, walked around the car and climbed in behind the wheel.
I muttered directions to my apartment then promptly zipped my lips.
An awkward silence filled the air for a couple of minutes before he spoke again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it when I said you were wasting my time. I was just pissed about your insistence to dig into a topic I’m not really open to discussing. Can you forgive me?”
“You just have a way of hurting me more than I’d like,” I responded, honestly.
He glanced at me but said nothing more.
All too soon we were pulling up to the curb in front of where I lived. I unbuckled my seat belt and reached for the handle of the door.
“Ciaran.” My name floated across the car with a tenderness I wasn’t used to.
When I faced him, his eyes reflected a hundred different emotions.
“You could never be a waste of my time.”
Blinking slowly, I explained what I was able to put into words. “I don’t understand what’s happening between us or if there is anything happening between us. I’m worried I will misunderstand what you want from me. And I’m not always sure what to say. I always seem to bump heads with you. I have so many questions and you’re so closed up. I’m supposed to write this article but I’m scared I will hurt you and you will hate me and I will hate myself.”
His eyes held me hostage. “That’s a lot of concerns for one person. I don’t think anyone has ever been afraid to hurt me before.”
“Kean, I’m so confused. I’m at a loss for what to say or do.”
Giving me a small smile he leaned over my lap, opened the glove compartment and pulled out his wallet. He removed a business card and handed it to me. “My cell number is on the back. Write your article and call me if you have any more questions. I only ask what I have been asking you from the beginning: Leave my personal life out of it. Please.”
I took the card from his hand, half relieved that he was straight out giving me permission to finish my assignment. But the questions about our relationship and where we stood had been neglected. A follow-up inquiry lingered on the edge of my tongue, but it would have to wait.
We’d both had enough for today.
Turning back to the door, I pulled it open.
Kean once again called my name. “Ciaran.”
I looked over my shoulder.
“I’ll try.”
My eyes wide, I stared at him for a full minute before climbing out of the car. I stepped away from the curb and watched as he merged into traffic.
I’ll try.
He’d left me with two of the simplest words in existence. I attached a life raft filled with every bit of hope to them and hung on for dear life.
Chapter Eighteen
Ciaran