When he got to the door, he placed his bag on the ground and began digging in his pocket for his keys. I figured at this point he’d hand over the leash so he wouldn’t have to juggle everything, but he never did.
“Let me.” When I reached past him to grab for the lead, my chin accidentally brushed against the outer shell of his ear. I felt him shudder at the same time my mouth tingled. Either I had surprised him or he was responding to my touch, which made me feel heady. As well as confused. But I couldn’t concentrate on that due to the throbbing.
He didn’t respond or loosen his grip on the leash as he turned the key in the lock. He stepped inside, flipped on the light, and then walked across the room to a worn-in brown couch. He patted the cushion, directing me to sit down.
While I hobbled over and took a seat, he returned with a kitchen towel. He secured the rag around my ankle, creating a kind of a tourniquet. Then he grabbed a pillow near the armrest and placed it beneath my ankle, so that I was half lounging on his sofa.
In a daze, I watched as he led Chopper into the kitchen, brought down a bowl from the cupboard, and filled it with water for him.
As I took in the sparse but clean room with its worn-in furniture and subdued colors, he shuffled down the hall and flipped on the light to what I supposed was the bathroom. He rummaged around in the cupboards for what I could only assume was some sort of first aid kit.
Words of protest were on the tip of my tongue. But what was I planning to object to? I allowed him to lead me to his house like some gimp, lay me on his couch, in order to tend to my wound, which now burned like crazy.
Suddenly I was going to stop him, tell him not to bother? I was being ridiculous. It was better to just allow him to bandage me up, and afterward I’d say thank you and be on my way.
Truth of the matter was that it felt so good to lie down, I momentarily shut my eyes. My back was provided such relief that I could scarcely drum up the emotions to care if my shirt was riding up my stomach or if my hair was a tangle of knots from rushing my wet fingers through it five hundred times on the way over here.
My eyes shot back open when I heard Jude heading toward me with an armful of supplies. His eyes were focused and intent on my face and then slid down to my ankle, but not before they snagged somewhere in the center of my body.
For all I knew he was checking me for injuries, but my instincts told me differently. Jude York was attracted to me and he was wholly conflicted about it. Possibly because up to this point, he thought he was straight or maybe he just wasn’t leaving room for anybody in his life because of stuff he had to hide.
He dropped an assortment of creams, disinfectant sprays, and Band-Aids onto the coffee table in front of me.
“A regular damn drugstore in that bathroom,” I muttered and he chuckled softly.
I inhaled sharply because it was the most amazing sound. I had made Jude York laugh.
When he saw the astonishment in my eyes, his lips pulled narrow and a red splotch climbed up his neck.
I regretted my reaction immediately.
Chapter Seven
“Fuck, don’t stop,” I said reaching out my fingers but then letting them fall to my side. “I just . . . I’ve never heard you laugh before and it’s . . . cool to hear.”
His eyes warmed instantly, but I could tell I had embarrassed him. He walked to the kitchen, ran the water, and then returned with a wet paper towel. He sat on the edge of the couch nearest my feet and stared at his table of wares. Well damn, I needed to make up for it somehow. I didn’t want him retreating from me again.
“So what have you got for me, Doc?” His head snapped up and his eyes crinkled at the corners. God, he was a beautiful sight. He wore his hair almost as a shield of armor and I wondered if that was purposeful. The dreadlocks were all twisted and falling in his face and they mostly covered up his sculpted cheekbones.
“You have quite a few things lined up,” I said. “Any of them going to hurt?”
His eyes shackled to mine and he shrugged. “Had my fair share of skateboard injuries, which explains the full medicine chest.”
I tried not to shiver at hearing his voice again. Instead, my gaze darted to his knees, where I noticed the same faint scars and scrapes beneath his fine blond hair.
He reached over me with the paper towel. “Need to clean your cuts, then bandage you up. It’s already beginning to swell.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Go for it, Doc.”
The first dab strung but I was expecting that. I just held my breath while he gently tended to my wound. I saw the irony of now being under his authority and scrutiny. Except he wasn’t wielding a tattoo machine.
Once the blood was gone, my injury didn’t look nearly as bad. He turned the cloth over to use on my shin and as he did so, his fingers slid down the underside of my knee.
Having Jude’s warm hands on me was complete torture. I wanted to moan out loud, but I cleared my throat instead. He seemed to be having difficulty swallowing and once he realized he was holding on to me longer than necessary, his fingers slipped away.
All at once Chopper returned from his exploration of Jude’s apartment. He saw his new lover sitting on the couch and hopped right up, half of his body on the arm of the couch, the other half hanging on the floor.
Chopper leaned over and licked the side of Jude’s face, then his neck, while Jude wrinkled his nose and cringed.
“You’re an attention hog, Chopper!” I said, leaning forward and nudging the dog off the couch.
Jude was full out laughing now and it was infectious. His whole face lit up as he wiped Chopper’s saliva off of his face with his forearm. After thirty seconds more of straight-out chuckling, we tried to rein it in but failed miserably.