“What?” she asked, eyes bright with adrenaline.
“Where the hell did you learn to do that?” Luke asked, staring at her like he wasn’t sure what he’d just witnessed.
Andi shrugged, flexing her fingers and shaking out her hand. “After what happened last time, your sister taught me how to make it hurt when guys don’t take no for an answer.” She winced, cradling her right hand. “Jesus, that hurt more than I thought it would.”
“Let me see,” I said before I could stop myself and lifted my hand to take hers.
She stepped back and narrowed her eyes. “I’m fine.”
And maybe she was. But that didn’t stop the way my chest tightened at seeing her favor her hand like that.
I inhaled slowly, tempering the edge in my voice. “I’m sure you are. But let me look anyway. Something tells me that’s your first time breaking someone’s nose.”
She hesitated—just long enough for me to reach out and take her hand before she could decide against it again.
The second my skin touched hers, it was like grabbing a hot fence—just enough shock to make me jump, but not enough to let go. I’d touched plenty of hot fences when I was a kid, dared into it by Luke to see who could hold on the longest. God, we were dumb. But this? This jolt felt different…and it sure as hell got my attention.
Her fingers were warm and trembling slightly, as I let my thumb trace lightly along the curve of her knuckles that were already red and starting to swell. Checking for damage, I told myself.
But the truth was, I wasn’t thinking about damage. Not anymore.
She watched me and didn’t say a word—didn’t pull away. And when our eyes met, something flickered there. Caution? Curiosity? Maybe even confusion. Like she wasn’t sure what to make of me now that I was being all nice and concerned. Shit, I wasn’t sure what to make of me, either.
“I don’t think anything’s broken,” I said. “But you’re gonna have a hell of a bruise. You should ice it.”
She scoffed, but it lacked her usual bite. “Thanks for the diagnosis, Doc.”
I smiled despite myself, giving her knuckles one last gentle brush before letting go. “Anytime.”
I tipped my hat and turned back to the bar, feeling her gaze linger on me the whole damn way. Maybe she was trying to figure me out. Hell, I was still trying to figureherout. And now I finally had a way in.
If being nice got me closer to the truth, then so be it. I could play the part and be her friend…at least until I figured out what the hell she was hiding.
I stood outside her door longer than I should’ve. Fist half-raised. Knuckles ready to knock. What the hell was I even doing?
My mind wandered, and I could still see the way her hand fit in mine earlier tonight, how the heat of her skin shot straight through me like a live wire. But I wasn’t here because of that.
This had nothing to do with feelings.
Still, I hesitated—considering how the last time I went to her door ended with her screaming and me catching an eyeful I still hadn’t recovered from.
Shaking my head, I huffed a sigh and finally rapped my knuckles lightly against the wood.
There was a beat of silence before her voice came through, quiet and irritated. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” I said, just as quietly. “Zane.”
Footsteps sounded from the other side of the door before she cracked it open, glaring at me through the narrow gap. “Waiting for me to open the door this time, huh? How refreshingly civilized of you.”
An easy grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. “I can be.”
“That’s debatable,” she muttered. “What do you want?”
“To talk,” I said, tipping my head toward the back of the house. “Come sit on the porch with me?”
She studied me through the gap for a long moment.
“It’s late,” she whispered. “Can’t this wait till morning?”
