“Yes.” I glanced up at him, and he put his left arm around me and pulled me up easily. I loved the fact that he was acting as if I were some hundred-pound lightweight and not the considerable amount more that I really was.
“Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?” he asked me as I leaned into him. I looked at his face to see if he was teasing me, but he looked quite serious. For a split second, I wanted to tell him that I needed him to carry me. I wanted to start limping and moaning and making out like I was really hurt, but I didn’t. And not because I’m above faking an injury to get close to a guy, but because I knew it wouldn’t be believable. He’d seen my injury. I had scraped the skin off of my knee and it was bleeding. It wasn’t a serious injury. Yes, it stung a bit, and yes, I was feeling slightly woozy, but I wasn’t in need of him carrying me. At least, not because of the injury I’d sustained. If he were offering to carry me into his bedroom, I would have had a completely different answer.
“I’m fine. I don’t need you to carry me.”
“Pity,” he said softly and I looked over at him in surprise. His face still looked serious and I wondered if I had imagined him saying those words. We walked towards his car in companionable silence, and I enjoyed the feeling of his warm body next to me as he led me across the field. “I know I told you I wanted to talk to you, but you didn’t have to injure yourself to get my attention,” he said as we reached his car.
“I didn’t,” I said smugly. “I don’t need to injure myself to get attention.”
“True, you don’t.” He laughed.
“What’s so funny?” My eyes narrowed as I gazed at him laughing down at me.
“I was just thinking about all the other ways that you draw attention to yourself.”
“Oh?”
“Like saying you want to be a lingerie model at Victoria’s Secret.”
“I never said that!” I shook my head. “Henry said that.”
“But you sure seemed happy when he brought it up.”
“What are you talking about?” I shook my head and got into the backseat of his car.
“It seems to me you want men to think about you parading about in lingerie.”
“No, I don’t.” I shook my head and watched as he slid into the backseat next to me. “Why would you even think that?”
“Maybe because that’s all I’ve been able to think about for the last week?”
“What? My conversation with Henry?”
“No, you goof.” He opened his center console and took out his first-aid kit. “You in lingerie.”
“Me in lingerie?” I breathed out and watched as he pulled up the leg of my pants again so that he could clean my wound.
“Yes, that’s all I’ve been thinking about for the last week.”
“That’s very bold of you to say.” I gasped as he placed the antiseptic lotion on my knee.
“Why?” He looked up into my eyes as his fingers rubbed against my skin.
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“Just because.” I moaned as his lips came dangerously close to mine. “What are you doing?”
“What do you want me to be doing?”
“Aiden,” I groaned, and he chuckled and moved back.
“I thought you liked kissing me. You liked kissing me last week.”
“I don’t understand you, Aiden,” I groaned and watched as he put a Band-Aid on my knee and leaned down to kiss it.
“All better,” he said and looked at me. “What do you want to understand?”
