“Hollywood likes this head-hitting move in the movies,” I said, pushing off his chest and straddling him. I rubbed the sore spot on my face. “It hurt like a motherfu?—”
“Adriana, you’re bleeding.” Andrew gently caught my left wrist.
“What?” I peered at my arm, and oh wow, I had a nasty gash in my forearm and blood had soaked into the torn fabric. My Apple watch was also missing. “Oh,” I whined. “The stupid branch ruined my shirt. And where is my watch?” I scanned the ground, looking for the light blue band.
Andrew crouched next to me and took off his backpack.
“You have a deep cut, and you’re worrying about your shirt and watch?” Feeling around inside his bag, he found a first-aid kit. “Let me see it.” Andrew unfastened the button at my wrist and carefully rolled the sleeve up. He applied a dressing to stop the bleeding.
A monkey screeched above our head, probably laughing at my clumsiness.
“Do you think blood will attract wild animals to us?” I joked, and then it hit me. What if it was true? Bears can smell blood for miles. My panic hiked up. “Andrew, are we in trouble?”
“No. We’ll be okay.” He removed the soiled dressing and examined the cut. The bleeding had stopped.
“It’s not so bad,” I said. “I wouldn’t run to urgent care with it.”
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t get infected.” Andrew opened a new water bottle, angled my hand away from us, and cautiously poured water on the cut.
I sucked in a breath.
Andrew did the same and glanced at me, his eyes full of apology. “I’m sorry it hurts.”
“It doesn’t.”
It did.
He peered closely at the raw flesh. “Doesn’t look like it has any splinters.” Andrew took a pen and drew a circle at the perimeter of the redness.
“What are you doing?”
“Marking it.”
“I see that. What for?”
“If the redness spreads past the line, it means the infection has worsened.”
He applied antibiotic ointment on the sterile bandage and taped it around my wound.
“You seem like you know what you’re doing,” I said, watching his skilled fingers orbit my wrist as he firmly wrapped a dressing. “Have you done much booboo fixing?”
“I make it up as I go.” He smiled. “My medical expertise doesn’t extend beyond putting Peppa Pig plasters on Lulu’s scraped knees.”
My heart overflowed with warmth at the image of Andrew lovingly talking to his tiny niece, saying sweet and kind words to make her stop crying and gently wiping tears from her cheeks. He probably stuck a Band-Aid on his nose to make her giggle.
“What did the doctor give to a sick penny?” Andrew said as he secured the wrap and pulled me out of this other world.
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“Penny-cillin.” He grinned.
The joke was so unexpected I barked a laugh. He was utterly adorable. And I wanted Andrew to always be the one to take care of my scrapes.
His eyes glinted, and he leaned forward and nudged my nose with his. “Think you can continue our walk?”
“Yes.”
Andrew stuffed all the things back into his bag, and he helped me back to my feet. He snatched the hat off the ground and wiped his forehead with his sleeve before putting it back on. With a final (and failed) attempt to locate my watch, we continued our quest.
