"The doctor said to rest my hand." I stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the warmth coming off his skin. "He didn't say anything about the rest of me."
Joel swallowed. I reached out with my good hand and hooked a finger into the waistband of the borrowed sweatpants.
"Red," he protested. "You just had surgery."
"Days ago."
"Your hand—"
"Isn't invited."
He almost smiled. His mouth curved, his eyes going dark the way they did when he wanted something. His hand came up to touch my face, and I leaned into it, already calculating angles, already thinking about the counter behind him and whether my hand could take the pressure if I braced against it.
Then he stepped back.
"Eat your breakfast," he said. "I'll clean up."
I stood there in my boxers, half-hard and rejected, while he turned back to the stove. He started scrubbing the pan like it was the most important task in the world.
"Joel."
"The bacon's getting cold."
"I don't care about the bacon."
"You need to eat. You're still on painkillers. You shouldn't take them on an empty stomach."
I stared at the back of his head, at PIPER stretched across his shoulders. He was sending me away like I was a child who needed managing.
"I'm not hungry for breakfast."
He shut off the water. His shoulders were tight. When he turned around, he wore the face he wore for judges and cameras, not for me.
"You need to heal," he said. "Four days isn't very long, Red."
"It's long enough."
"For what?"
I crossed the distance between us and kissed him, putting everything I couldn't say into it. He made a sound against my mouth and his hands came up to grip my arms, and for one perfect second I thought he was going to give in.
Then his fingers found the edge of my bandage and he pulled back like he'd been burned.
"We can't," he said. "Not yet. Not until you're—"
"Until I'm what? Fixed?" I held up my bandaged hand between us. "What if this is it, Joel? What if the hand never works right again and you can't touch me until I'm better?"
His jaw tightened. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"You're hurting me right now."
Joel flinched, and I was too tired of being handled to feel bad about it.
"Red," he said quietly. "I'm trying to take care of you."
"I don't need you to take care of me. I need you to stop looking at me like I'm going to break."
“I’m just trying to help you, Red.”
