“Oh, wow.” She sits back in her seat and turns to me with a bright pink bra dangling from her fingers. “Don’t tell me, tattooist by day, drag queen by night, am I right?”
Fuck. I didn’t even realise that was back there. I can’t even remember how it got there.
“Babe, if I was a drag queen, you best believe I wouldn’t settle for a B cup.” I pluck the bra dangling from her fingers and stuff it down the side of my seat before turning back toface her. “I’d be a double D at the very least.”
“Are you saying there’s something wrong with small boobs?”
“Not at all, but you’ll soon realise there’s nothing small about me,” I say with a smirk.
Her cheeks flush as she forces her eyes away, doing her best to cover the smile tugging at her mouth.
I clear my throat. “Seriously though, Katie will be made up to have it back… Or was itRachel…?” I can’t fucking remember. Call me an asshole but all their faces and names just blur into one after a while.
She rolls her eyes before returning to dig through the shit on the back seat before pulling out a box of bandages I keep in my truck.
“Give me one of your hands.” She holds out her palm and I place one of mine in hers. “Do you do this often?” she asks, gently wrapping the bandage around my knuckles.
I shrug. “Not my first rodeo, probably won’t be my last.”
“But why?”
“I needed the money.”
“And you needed the money that badly you’d get into a fight with the Hulk? No amount of money is worth risking your life for.”
“Easy to say coming from someone who’s always had it,” I snap, regretting it as soon as I said it. “Take it you’ve heard about Jack? How he died?”
She nods.
“He was my business partner. One of my best friends. His old lady, Jade is pregnant. We each vowed to do our part and help raise it, to help her out and make sure they both want for nothing. The money was gonna be for her and the kid.”
Her gaze is soft as it lifts to mine, a soft smile on her mouth, like she’s touched by my answer.
She ties off the bandage and switches to my other hand, giving it the same treatment. “Do Myles and the others know you do this?”
“No, and you’re not going to tell them.”
“But surely y—”
“You’renotgoing to tell them.”
“And how do you plan on explaining your face? Or your knuckles?”
“I’ll say I beat up two assholes who thought they could touch what wasn’t theirs.”
She doesn’t press further as she finishes bandaging up my hands. “You should really see a doctor or something. You’ll probably need stitches, your cuts look pretty deep,” she says.
“You worried about me, butterfly?”
The nickname slips out before I can catch it. Her eyes find mine and instead of the glare I received back at the bar when I first called her that, there’s a softness there as she holds my gaze.
She averts her eyes, reaching down into the foot well for her bag, pulling out a tissue. Leaning forward she begins blotting the cuts to my brow and my lip, wiping away the blood that’s crusting there.
I don’t dare tear my eyes away from her as I watch her work. I couldn’t if I tried. She’s so fucking beautiful, her touch soft and comforting, and despite all the women I’ve indulged in over the years, it’s something I’ve never experienced.
I’m touched by how much she cares despite hating my guts and maybe that tells me more about her character than any of Cruiser’s background checks ever could.
“There. All done.” She goes to shift back into her seat and I do something I’ve never done before.
