Page 66 of Playing the Player

“I, umm,” I can’t find the right words and Conor’s intense stare on my feet are making it harder for me to think. He gently rolls my sweats up my legs and I hiss when the fabric grazes the burns.

“Jesus, Sash.” Conor looks horrified, his face is draining of color and I think he’s gonna be sick. It does look nasty though. Blisters have slowly started to appear and the redness hasn’t subsided at all. If anything, it’s gotten worse. “What the hell happened?”

I hesitate. Just tell him! No, don’t. I could go for a half truth?

“Some guy accidentally knocked a fresh coffee off his desk yesterday.” I shrug. “I was walking past at the same time and well, you can see the rest.”

His eyes narrow but he doesn’t take his gaze off my legs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? Sash, your skin is literally peeling off. You look like a sunburnt tourist! You have officially entered your lizard era.”

“Ha ha, funny guy.” I deadpan, but I can’t hide the wide smile that breaks free across my face.

“Have you got ointment or anything to put on it?”

“I do.”

“Have you used it?”

“No…” Conor’s eyebrows climb. “I got distracted!”

“Where is it?”

“I’ll get it.” I go to stand but Conor stops me.

“Sit your sexy little ass back down right now. I’ll get it.”

I chuckle at his words. “I’m fine, Conor. Really I am.”

“Where is it, Sash?”

I groan as Conor stands from the couch. “Bathroom. Above the sink.”

“Be right back.” He kisses me on the forehead as he heads to the bathroom. I sink down lower onto the couch, cursing myself for lying to him. It wasn’t a total lie. I was merely withholding information. Oh who am I kidding, it was a total lie.

“Have you taken any pain meds?” Conor calls from the other room.

“This morning, yeah.”

He walks back into the living room, carrying the small tube of cream and a bottle of pills. He stops at the sink, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, washes his hands and then comes back to me.

“Open.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“Open your mouth.”

Oh, right. Duh. I do as he says, willingly obeying him and getting a little turned on by his commanding attitude. He places the pills in my mouth and lifts the glass of water for me to swallow them down. My throat works harder than it should, the familiar look in Conor's eye making it feel too tight. “Good girl.” He whispers, smirking at me with those damn lips.

For God’s sake. I’m hopeless.

He settles back onto the couch, resting my legs across his lap again. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“Don’t be. It looks worse than it is.”

He gives me a disbelieving look before popping the lid off the cream and squeezing a generous amount onto his palm. “Doctor Matthews is currently on duty.”