I snorted. “No. It’s Harrison.”
“My sexy neighbor?”
Sexy neighbor?My grin spread, and my heartbeat kicked up. Nothing could make me leave her in this moment. “Yes. I came to help with the window and found you like this.”
“Sexy window man.”
“Not the best nickname, or the worst, but I’ll take it.” I chuckled.
Even in her distress, she smiled and turned her face so her cheek pressed against my palm. Her skin felt like ice. We needed to remove the glass and get her dressed in fifteen more layers. Where was that damn woman with the first aid?
“Your hand is warm. It’s probably weird you’re touching my face. But I like it. It’s big. Do big hands help with window repair?” she asked, still not coherent enough to realize who she was talking to.
My chest tightened at how goddamn cute and vulnerable she looked. I swallowed hard, unsure what to say.
“Coach, I couldn’t find the first aid kit, but I found some cleaning wipes, tweezers, and a handful of bandages and wraps. Hopefully they’ll work.”
I blew out a long sigh of relief.About damn time.
“That will do. Does Becca have a sweatshirt or something we can change her into since she’s covered in blood?”
“Yes, I’ll run into her room. Should I bring a hot chocolate? It’s her favorite pick-me-up.”
Of course it was. “Yeah, that’s a great idea.”
The young woman stepped out just as Becca opened her eyes. Her light brown irises had specks of blue in them. It bothered me that I’d never noticed before. Those almost-too-large eyes narrowed at me, and the brief warmth in them disappeared. She wrinkled her brow and blinked several times, her frown deepening.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” Her voice came out weak.
I scooted closer to her on the bed. “Helping you.”
“I didn’t ask you for help, did I?” She bit her lip as a light blush crept up her neck and cheeks. “I can’t remember if I did. I wouldn’t want to bother you, so I’m confused why you’re here.”
“No, you didn’t ask. One of your girls flagged me down when I was on my way to offer help.” I caressed her skin with my calloused fingers, convincing myself I did this to give her warmth and distract her from pain. That was it. She leaned into me just a bit, but I didn’t think she realized it.
“Flagged you down?”
“She was worried. You must’ve bumped into the window and got yourself pretty good.” I moved my hand from her jawline and placed it on her arm, inches away from the small shard. “I’m going to remove the small piece of glass from your arm, okay?”
“Glass?” Her voice rose an octave, and she blinked faster. “Ihateblood.”
“Ah, that’s why you passed out then.”
“Rats.” Glancing down where my hand rested, she winced. “It’s probably best to rip it out just like taking off a Band-Aid, right?”
“Yes. Look toward the window. Trust me, you don’t want to watch this.” I gently tilted her head away from her shoulder and ran my hand down her neck, over her shoulder, and stopped when I got to the glass. The wound wasn’t that big, thankfully, and it looked worse than it was. In a world of cleat injuries, this was a pretty shallow wound. “It might hurt.”
“I can handle it.” She whispered affirmations to herself, somehow making her sunshine personality even cuter. “Just get it over with so I can figure out how to fix the window.”
I picked up the tweezers, cleaned them with an alcohol swab, and placed them around the thickest part of the minor shard. “On three. One, two—” I pulled.
She released a littleoomph. “I didnotlike that. Nope. Not even a little.”
“You’re a real champion.” I fought another grin.
“I don’t like skin pain. I know that’s a weird thing to say, but when I tried getting a matching tattoo with my mom, I couldn’t handle the pain. So now I have half of a four-leaf clover because the pain was too much. It looks like weird butt cheeks, which is not a cool thing to show off. Everyone has cute or meaningful or beautiful tats, and I have butt cheeks.”
Skin pain? Butt cheeks?Good lord. I snorted. I shouldnotbe smiling at her. “Where is this tattoo?”
