After another charged moment where neither of us seemed to know what to say or do, he left, leaving a gaping Freya in his wake. “What was that?”
Falling back into the pillows, I closed my eyes. “No idea. But my brain is too tired to overanalyze Liam’s actions right now. Maybe tomorrow.”
She climbed onto the bed, rolling onto her side to face me. “You sure you’re okay? You can talk to me.”
I’d never felt more exhausted. Opening my eyes was about as much as I could muster. “I’ll probably fall apart tomorrow when I can do more than blink. But for now, I need to get clean and get someone to stitch me up. And maybe a tetanus shot wouldn’t go amiss.”
Jumping up, Freya skipped to the bathroom. “I’ll draw you a hot bath. Probably a good idea to get clean now. I heard you’re not supposed to get fresh stitches wet.”
I listened to her moving things around in the bathroom, and then the noise of running water filled the room. The sound lulled me to sleep.
A hand on mine brought me back to consciousness with a violent jolt.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Liam murmured. He was kneeling beside the bed, holding my hand. “Your bath is ready, and the doctor is here. But he’ll wait for as long as you need.”
After placing a kiss to the back of my hand, he straightened back up.
Pushing up on my elbows, I heaved myself out of bed, feeling ninety years old. Everything hurt, and my eyelids were still half closed.
Freya came out of the bathroom, rushing up to me as soon as she saw I was up. “You shouldn’t get up by yourself.”
I let her help me into the bathroom but drew the line when she lifted the hem of my shirt. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine taking my own clothes off.”
Biting her bottom lip, she backed off.
I mustered a weak smile, hoping to reduce the sting of my words. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her feelings. “Thanks for getting the bath ready. I won’t be long.”
She left but didn’t close the door all the way. I could hear her pacing in the bedroom, a huff filling the air every few seconds. After first peeling off my T-shirt, then my pants, I had to take a break, the movements sending fire shooting up and down my arm.
My panties and bra followed, and I lowered myself into the hot water with a deep sigh. My ribs ached, and my body was one big bruise. But I was still alive and hadn’t lost any fingers or toes.
The water was hot enough to turn my skin red, relaxing my tense muscles.
Allowing myself to soak for ten minutes, I scrubbed the dirt off my body. My hair was a challenge to clean, as I had a lot of it, and what I had was stubborn. And doing everything one-handed was an added challenge. But at least I managed to keep my bandage dry.
After finally rinsing most of my shampoo out, I half-heartedly added conditioner, leaving half of it in. It might help control the frizz. Or make my hair greasy. Could go either way, but I didn’t care. My hair was the least of my worries right now.
I emerged from the bathroom scrubbed clean and smelling like the lavender Freya had added to the water. She’d set out sweatpants and a sweater for me. They were a few sizes too big, and when I lifted the sweater, Liam’s scent caressed my senses.
I wanted to sink my face into it, the comfort I knew it would bring almost enough to give in. I settled for pulling the garmentson instead. Cocooned in their warmth, I padded out to the living room.
Liam was standing with an older man, deep in conversation. Freya was throwing cupboards open only to slam them closed again. “Where do you keep your mugs?”
Liam looked up to reply but instead noticed me standing in the entrance to the hallway.
“Cupboard over the sink,” he answered, never looking away from me as he started moving in my direction.
His arm came around me, and he guided me to the couch before I had a chance to protest. “Quinn, this is Dr. Grasser.”
Managing an unenthusiastic smile, I nodded at him. “Hi.”
“Hello, Miss Lombardo. I heard you had quite the night. Let’s take a look at you, shall we?” He looked innocent enough with his round glasses and white mustache. “Do you want to go back to the bedroom, or do you prefer to stay here while I examine you?”
I sat down with Liam’s help. “Here’s fine.”
The doctor’s movements were clinical and efficient. After prodding all my limbs, he declared nothing broken. “I have to stitch your arm. You’ll feel a few pinches where I inject the anesthetic, but otherwise, it’ll just be a slight tugging sensation.”
He retrieved a syringe and filled it, then injected small doses along my cut. Liam held my hand, absorbing my every flinch. I didn’t think I would have gotten through it without him.
