“Whatever you want.” She can’t hide the sting behind kind words. “You can ride with me when we’re done here. It’ll only be a few more minutes.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
ASPEN
Once again, Emmett and I are at a stalemate.
He’s pushing me away after agreeing to help, and it’s enough to give a girl a complex.
Closing my eyes, I force my most professional smile—the one I use with patients who are a pain in the ass.
“Removing burn dressings can be painful. Let me know if you need a break,” I tell him, just like I would anyone else.
“I won’t.”
Obstinate man.
His muscles tense under my touch when I don’t start right away. They’re hard and tan—clearly the kind you get from working outside and using your body as a tool.
My attention shifts from the burn to his broad chest and the smattering of dark hair across his pecs and down the trail of hair to the grey sweats sitting low on his hips, revealing a white band of scar tissue along the curve of his hip. He’s rugged and unintentionally handsome.
My gaze lingers.
Having him in my house sans shirt doesn’tfeelclinical.
And that’s a problem.
I’d be smart to remember this man is a very recently discharged patient.
Shame burns through me.
And judging by the tight set of his shoulders, I’ve already let this go too far.
He shifts his weight, guarded in every movement. Beneath that, though, there’s something deeper—the kind of pain that doesn’t come from his injury. One buried deep so no one notices.
And here I am, ogling him while he’s in pain. We might not be in the hospital, but at this moment, he’s in my care.
Focus, Aspen.
I glance out the window over his shoulder, allowing myself the space I so clearly need to reset my mindset.
You’re a professional.
You can do this.
He’s not even that attractive.
Okay, that last part is a lie.
I duck my head and work.
We’re still too close, it’s maddening.
“This is going to hurt,” I warn again.
“I know.”
