“The fact that you are still alive astounds me.”
“What kind of job has pigeons?” Hazard wondered from across the room.
“A job you aren’t ever getting,” Kieran deadpanned.
“A pigeon deterrent specialist,” Pip told Haz. “I thought it would be an easy job. I mean, how hard could it be to shoo them somewhere else? Turns out it made me feel like I was ruining their dreams, and they always refused to leave. They pooped a lot too.”
“At least fish stay where you put them.” Haz empathized. “Except for that one time a rainbow tetra just disappeared from its tank. I still wonder what happened to it.”
“The others probably ate it,” Kieran offered.
“Eat or be eaten,” I echoed.
Haz looked offended. “But they were friends.”
“Friends don’t eat friends.” Pip agreed.
Kieran looked at me and rolled his eyes.
Rett picked up a small tube. “Is this that stuff?” he asked, squinting at the label.
I glanced over. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“It looks different than what the doctor had,” he mumbled, cheeks pinkening.
“Can we get back to the pigeon attack?” It had probably tried to peck out his eyes. Jealous its eyes weren’t even half as beautiful as his.
“No,” he declared and ripped open the alcohol wipe. “Arm.”
I held up my arm, not even caring it was going to sting like a bitch when that alcohol slapped into my open wound.But it didn’t hurt at all. The sensation of his hand cradling my elbow silenced every pain receptor in my entire body.
“Is that okay?” He worried, tenderly wiping away the blood.
“Yeah.”
He paused, fingers trembling a bit in the crook of my elbow. “Then why does your voice sound like that?”
“Like what?”
“Pained.”
“Ah, it’s cold.” I lied.
“Sorry.” He quickly pulled it away and went back for the bandage and ointment.
The concentration on his face was so sincere, as though he took this job so seriously. Like applying a bandage was the most important thing he’d ever done.
Frankly, it unraveled me.
“This is how they did it at the clinic.” He applied some of the ointment before perfectly positioning the flesh-colored dressing.
“You do it better,” I whispered.
Our eyes met, and I got lost in a sea of gray, ready and willing to drown.
He pulled back, and oxygen was forced into my lungs. It was uncomfortable and jarring.
“There,” he said, reaching down to grab the wrapper for the wipe that had somehow ended up in my lap.
