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“I don't flirt.” Ross rests a hand on the counter.

“You just did.” I draw a breath as he pulls his shirt over his head, and my brain briefly leaves the building. Focus, Kira. I examine the tattoo, careful and professional. “It looks great.” I hold his gaze.

“Good.” He holds my gaze.

“You've been following my instructions?”

“Yes.” He draws a slow breath.

“No soaking it?”

“No.” He shifts his weight.

“No picking at it?” I raise my eyebrows.

His expression turns offended. “I'm not five.”

“You were afraid of the needle.” I remind him.

“I was not afraid.” He lifts his chin.

I smile. “Whatever helps you sleep, mountain man.”

His hand closes gently around my wrist before I can step away and the room goes quiet. My pulse jumps beneath his thumb. He looks down at where he's touching me, then back at my face.

“I missed this.”

I blink. “The abuse?”

“The flirting.” My breath catches. “I thought you hated it.”

“I lied.”

“You said you don't lie.”

“Apparently you're a bad influence.” He smirks—a real smirk from the bossy mountain man.

I smile, but inside I'm unraveling. He missed me flirting with him. That shouldn't feel like a declaration, but it does. “Ross.” I look at him.

“I've spent all morning trying to decide whether kissing you would be a mistake.” His gaze drops to my lips then back to my eyes.

My heart stops. “And?” I raise my eyebrows.

“And I still don't know.” He shakes his head.

I step closer until only a few inches separate us. “Maybe you don't have to know everything before you do it.”

His jaw tightens. “You're twenty-four.”

“And you're obsessed with that number.”

“Because it matters.” He growls.

“To you.”

“It should matter to you.”

“What matters to me is whether you respect me. Whether you listen to me. Whether you think I'm capable of deciding who I want.” His gaze searches mine and I soften my voice. “I know what I want, Ross.”