Page 13 of Lace 'em Up

And the moment I cross the threshold, I find that I’ve already broken my promise to Jean-Michel.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I snap, quickly moving to Rory’s side as she hobbles across the room.

Her eyes flash to mine, hot and angry. “None of your fucking business.”

“Okay, Miss Prickle Pants,” I growl, taking her arm and drawing her to a halt. “I know your fucking ears work.”

She glares at me.

“Which means,” I snap, “that I know you heard when the doctor said to stay off those feet for at least the next twenty-four hours.”

“I heard her,” she says icily. “I just?—”

“What?” I press when she breaks off, eyes sliding to the side, cheeks turning the slightest bit pink.

“Never mind,” she mutters, tugging at my hold.

“No,” I say, “tell me. Tell me what was so important that you’re trying to undo the work the doctor did.”

She exhales.

Winces.

And God, I’m an asshole.

But I don’t even get to sit in that for a second before I feel even more like an asshole.

Because then she says, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Fucking hell.

“Ror—”

She shakes her head and guilt jabs at me repeatedly, but that’s the least of what I deserve.

“I—”

“No,” she whispers, pulling at my hold.

I release her, but don’t back away as she takes a step forward. Which is why I don’t miss the grimace that crosses her face.

Christ.

I move without thinking, scooping her up as carefully as the priceless, breakable object she is.

“King!”

But I don’t pay attention to her furious tone, to the way she’s gone stiff. I just start forward, carrying her into the bathroom, setting her on her feet near the toilet.

Then I hesitate…

Her mouth opens and closes, opens and closes. Then she seems to notice that I’m still standing there.

“What?” she growls.

I wave a hand at her. “Did you need some help with…?”

I trail off before I say something stupid like panties.

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