My heart stopped mid-beat.
Girlfriend?
Was I? Since when?
Had I missed some crucial conversation where that had been established?
A grin split across Mason’s face, and the idiot took the time to actually applaud. “About damn time.”
“Don’t make this into a thing,” Kreed said gruffly.
“Oh, it’s definitely a big deal,” Mason countered, still grinning as he prepared the needle with alcohol. “Kreed Corvo…someone’s boyfriend. Never thought I’d see the day. Pretty soon, I’ll be able to call you sis for real.”
“I said she’s my girlfriend, not my wife.”
“For you, it’s essentially the same thing.” Mason’s expression softened despite the teasing. “You don’t half-ass anything, and you sure as hell don’t do relationships. Or I should say you didn’t.”
Kreed grunted, clearly done with the conversation. “Just hurry up and sew me back together.”
I didn’t know how I should feel. Did I want to be his girlfriend?
Mason worked efficiently, the needle piercing skin and making my stomach roll. Kreed’s hand found mine, squeezing, and I was pretty sure he was offering me more comfort than I was giving.
When Mason finally leaned back, wiping his hands clean on a fresh towel, he examined his work. “You’ll live. I’d tell you not to do anything stupid for at least a week or risk reopening the wound, but I know better.”
“Thanks.” Kreed’s shoulders dropped.
Mason gave a quick nod before gathering his shit, leaving me alone with Kreed.
I just stood there frozen, staring at him, this beautiful, infuriating, impossible boy who kept bleeding for me, completely unsure if I wanted to cry or scream or somehow both simultaneously.Andapparently, he was myboyfriend. I should be ecstatic. It was what I wished for, and yet I was scared.
He reached out with his uninjured arm, fingers curling around my wrist and tugging me gently between his knees until I stood bracketed by his thighs. I was excruciatingly careful, afraid any wrong movement would cause him pain. I didn’t dare press too close, hyperaware of the white bandage Mason had taped over the wound.
He exhaled against my collarbone, heavy and raw and bone-deep tired, before dropping his forehead to rest against my chest. His breathing filled the quiet space between us, steady but edged with pain he couldn’t quite hide.
My fingers stroked through his wet hair. “How about we get you out of these clothes and into bed?” I’d feel better once he was lying down.
“If you insist,” he muttered, not moving.
“I do. Can you stand for a moment?”
His lips curled as his eyes danced. “Only if you take them off me.” He used the bed to push himself upright onto his feet.
I rolled my eyes. “How are you flirting with me right now?” My fingers went to his waistband, tugging the damp sweatpants past his hips. I crouched, slipping the sneakers from his feet.
He stepped out of the rest of the sweatpants, letting them pool onto the floor. Kreed eased back down onto the bed.
I pulled his socks, tossing them to the ground, and stood. Now was not the time to admire how perfect every inch of his body was, but my eyes couldn’t help it. The hard lines of muscles, the patchwork of ink tattooed into his golden skin, muscle carved in lethal lines, the quiet rise and fall of his chest. “It scares me how normal this all is for you.”
“That’s something we should talk about,” he said, voice gentling. “What I said earlier to Mason… you always have the choice to leave. If this becomes too much, I won’t hold you to it. If it isn’t what you want?—”
I cut him off with a hard kiss, stealing the rest of his sentence. “I want this. I want you.”
His eyes darkened. “You might change your mind in a year or two,” he murmured, brushing his nose along mine. “And I won’t stop you from walking away from me. Away from this.”
I swallowed hard, nerves fluttering wildly. If we were going to be vulnerable and confess, I had one of my own I needed to unload. “I lied to you,” I whispered.
His head snapped up, searching my face. “What are you talking about? When?”
