I step back but not far. I’m close enough that my thigh brushes the edge of the island. Close enough that I can still reach her. Her hand stays in mine for a second longer before Sebastian gently takes over.
“This is…impressive,” he says mildly.
“Don’t,” I warn.
Killian grins. “Did he actually make it worse?”
“What do you think?” Sebastian chuckles.
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
Sutton presses her lips together, clearly trying not to laugh. I, on the other hand, watch carefully as Sebastian works, re-cleaning the cut, his movements precise and practiced under the bright kitchen lights.
“It’s definitely looking better,” he says. “I think you’ll get to keep the hand.”
“Good to know,” Sutton replies.
“Keep it wrapped like this,” he continues, redoing the bandage properly this time. “Shep, if you change it the next time, don’t pull too tight, that’s all. You don’t want to cut offcirculation to her hand. We’re just keeping the bandage secure. See?”
I watch every single thing he does, memorizing everything step by step.
“Got it?” he asks me.
“Got it.”
He finishes, securing the bandage neatly, way better than I had, obviously. “There,” he says, stepping back. “Functional.”
Sutton flexes her fingers slightly, testing it. “Okay, yeah,” she says. “That’s…significantly better.”
“Low bar,” Killian mutters.
I shoot him a look, but he raises his hands, smirking. “What? It was.”
Sutton laughs softly. And yeah, okay. My brothers teasing me is well worth it to hear her laugh and to see her smile.
Sebastian claps me once on the shoulder as he moves past. “You’re good at a lot of things, bro” he says.
“Just not that,” I admit.
He smiles. “Correct.”
The kitchen settles into something quieter after that. Killian grabs another beer and Bishop scrolls through something on his phone. Sebastian leans back against the counter like nothing happened. But I stay right where I am. Close to Sutton. Probably closer than I need to be.
“You good?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah.” Her bandaged hand rests on the counter between us. My fingers brush lightly against the edge of it before I even think about it, but she doesn’t pull away and she doesn’t flinch.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“For what?”
“For trying.”
I huff out a quiet breath. “Sorry I made it worse.”
“You tried anyway, and that matters.”
