Page 112 of Flipping the Script

“Are you going to tell me to be kind to myself?”

“I was going to tell you to stop bellyaching.” He shot me a look. “But that works too.”

“You done having a staring contest with my hand?” I asked when he returned his gaze to my palm.

“This kind of swelling,” he asked. “Is that normal for you?”

“Yeah,” I said softly, all the bite gone from my tone. “Sensitive skin. It should go away in a few hours.”

Gently, he traced the tip of his finger over the side of the cut.

His breathing hitched.

Not sure what to do with the weird flutters in my stomach, I pulled my hand free and cleared my throat.

“So, why were you such a dick when I was nice enough to drive my ass up here to save you?” he asked, his voice teasing but still sharp.

“I thought you weren’t going to lecture me about needing to be saved,” I shot back, getting defensive again.

“This isn’t me lecturing you. Just wondering if you greet all your saviors like that or if I’m special.”

“Saviors?” I spluttered.

“My name is Jesus in your phone. That’s pretty savior-like.”

“I recall you getting that name for some rather unsavior-like behavior.” I shot him a look. “Pretty sure sucking dick isn’t considered a holy endeavor.”

“It should be.”

We lapsed into silence, both of us sitting with our eyes fixed on the fireplace.

“Are you okay?” I asked a few minutes later.

“Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” He kept his eyes on the fire.

“You took a while to get here,” I continued, hating how hesitant I sounded. “Was it because of the storm?”

“Yeah. Got stuck behind a pileup on the highway when the rain started. Then the worst of it hit right before I got to the offramp to the properties.”

“Oh, okay.” I tapped his foot against the wooden floor. “I thought maybe you had car trouble, or you had problems on the road…”

“Got stuck in the mud a few times, but nothing too bad.”

“Oh, okay,” I repeated, not sure what to do with the mess of emotions hitting me all at once.

He pulled his attention away from the fire and shot me a cheesy smirk. “Awww, were you worried about me?”

“No.” I crossed my arms and fixed my stare on the fire.

“You were, admit it.”

17

JESSE

“You were, admit it,”I said, hating the little thrill that moved through me at the thought.

I’d been worried as hell about him. It was nice to know I wasn’t alone.

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