Like someone who’s been as wrecked by this as I have.
But her eyes. Her eyes are exactly the same.
Deep brown, warm and expressive. They’re watching me now with uncertainty. Like she’s waiting for me to hurt her.
Her lips part like she’s about to say something, but I don’t give her the chance.
I force myself to move, crossing to the counter and setting down my tablet.
“Let’s take a look at that ankle.”
I pull up the stool and sit in front of her. She’s so close. Close enough that her scent fills my lungs with every breath, and I’m eighteen again, stupid in love, willing to do anything for her.
“May I?”
She nods.
I reach for her boot.
The second my fingers brush her ankle, heat floods through me. My heart slams against my ribs as I focus on the laces, pulling them loose and easing the boot off, then her sock.
Her ankle is swollen, a little bruised. Mild sprain. She’ll be fine in a week.
I should be relieved. Instead I’m thinking about all the other times I’ve undressed her.
“When did this happen?”
“Half hour ago. Outside the bakery.”
Her voice has changed too. Still warm, still her, but there’s a roughness now. A guardedness that wasn’t there before.
“Can you rotate your foot for me?”
She does. My fingers are still on her skin and I should let go. I don’t.
“Tell me if this hurts.”
I press gently along the bone. She inhales sharply.
I look up—and our eyes meet.
Up close, I can see more. The faint freckles across her nose that I used to kiss. The tiny scar on her chin from when she fell off her bike at fourteen. The way she’s biting her lower lip the way she always did when she was nervous.
She’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Her scent shifts. Deepens. Goes warm and rich in a way I remember too well.
She’s getting aroused. From me touching her ankle. Her body still knows mine, even after everything.
And mine is responding. My cock stirs in my slacks, thickening against my thigh. My skin feels too tight. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to lean closer, breathe her in, put my mouth on her throat and taste the pulse hammering there.
I stand up fast, putting distance between us.
“Not broken. Mild sprain. Ice it tonight, keep it elevated.”
I grab a bandage from the counter. Need to wrap her ankle and get out of here.
“I’m going to wrap it.”
