“Val?” Sawyer’s voice startles me. “Do you want me to clean everything up, or just come in early tomorrow to help?” He sets down a case of liquor, then leans against the counter a few seats away.
“No,” I say simply, then turn to him.
The fuck? His white wings are crumpled and dirty, his chest is scratched all to shit.
“What the hell happened to you?” In the chaos of the last half hour, I realize now I haven’t seen him since he darted away with Wade.
His mouth tilts with an apologetic half-smile. “I tackled that guy down. But after Wade put him in the truck, I started shaking so went downstairs for a little bit.” He drops his gaze to look at the floor. “I’m sorry. I’ve never gotten in a fight before.” Those blue eyes raise and lock with mine. “I just didn’t want her to get hurt.”
Why do I have a sudden flare of jealousy like a vise around my throat?
“Do you like her?” I try to frame the question as neutral as possible, but it still comes out with a hint of venom.
When his forehead furrows, I already know the answer before he speaks.
“Not like that.” He shakes his head. “But I ain’t gonna stand by and watch someone get dragged off.”
It’s a strange feeling, this wave of heat that rushes through me. “You’re a hero.” He could be with any of those other girls who were checking him out. But he’s not. He’s here, with me.
Alone.
“I dunno about that.” That lower lip pouts out as he looks down.
He wipes at his chest leaving a smear of blood which he smears on the thigh of his jeans.
“Damn it, Sawyer,” I whisper. “Let me get you patched up before you go.”
“So you don’t want me to do the close up stuff?” He reaches up and runs his fingers through his unruly hair.
Geez, he lost his hat too?“No, Sawyer. I want you to sit. There.” I point at the stool as I round the end of the bar to dig out the first aid kit.
He drops his butt on the seat and swivels so he’s facing out with his arms draped across the edge when I come back around.
Setting the box on the padded spot next to him, I flip the top to pull out the alcohol wipes.
“This might sting.” I rip off the edge and unfold the tiny white square.
His knees are firmly together as I reach towards him making it so fucking awkward.
“Move these.” My palm pats his leg.
Twisting doesn’t offer much room either.
“Sawyer.” I let my voice drop as I let my hip press his thigh. “Do you want to do this yourself?”
His nostrils flare as his heavy-lidded eyes focus on where our bodies meet. “No.”
I flatten my hand and push my fingers between his tightly clenching muscles. “Then you have to let me in,” I whisper.
The sound of his nails scratching against the brass rail is the only indication of his hesitancy before he opens his knees.
Moving my hips to rest against the stool, I pop the clasp holding the broken wings. “Afraid I’m going to fuck you?” My cheek lifts with his sharp inhale as I lay the cold wipe against the oozing scrape.
“Val, I—” He stops to hiss another breath through his teeth when I press the stinging pad to a new spot.
“What? Never had a woman between your legs?” I can feel the tremor in his legs in his struggle to keep them from touching me.
A knot forms in his brow and his jaw clenches.
