Page 58 of From You to Me

“It’s my knee. It’s killing me,” I muttered.

In a flash, I was in the air, my feet dangling as he lifted me bridal style and carried me up the stairs toward his room.

Gently, he laid me down on his bed. The softness of the Egyptian cotton caressed my back as I sank into the mattress.

He hovered over the bed, his blues imploring me. “Is it this one? Did you hurt yourself?” He ran a finger along my stocking-covered right leg.

“I’ll take care of it; you don’t need to worry. Thank you for bringing me up here,” I said, shooting upright, but that only made me gasp as my knee locked up. I couldn’t help the tear that escaped the corner of my eye.

“Hey.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and slowly pushed me back into the pillows. “I’ll call the doctor.”

“No.” I gripped his hand. “I’ll be fine with some ice and painkillers.”

He hooked his finger under my chin. “Don’t be difficult. Whatever is bothering you seems serious. You need someone to look at it.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s just a flare-up. I get them all the time.”

“A flare-up?” He frowned.

My heartbeat picked up a notch as a nervous flush washed over me. Why was he acting like he didn’t know?

“I broke my knee six years ago.”

“How?” he asked, genuine concern laced his question.

My eyes narrowed. “I was pushed in an alley outside of the Bluebird Club.” I watched his face for any recognition of that name, but his face gave nothing away.

In fact, a glint glassed his eyes. “What do you mean you were pushed?”

I tilted my head as I peered at him. “Two men dragged me into an alley and pushed me. The impact of it shattered my knee.”

“Who were they?” His voice was so low that it almost made me tremble.

“They couldn’t find out. They assumed it to be a robbery.”

His hands clenched by his side. “Did they do anything else?”

“No,” I mumbled.

He nodded once again, almost satisfied with that answer.

I was confused.Did he not get the phone call after all? Or was he pretending he didn’t know anything?

A warm hand grasping my calf pulled me away from my thoughts. Jay’s fingers grazed the band of my stockings with a clear intention of getting them off me.

I panicked. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a look at your leg.”

“You can’t.” I screeched, sounding like a wounded bird, which perplexed him. Over the past weeks, I have cleverly avoided showing off my bare legs to Jay. And I certainly didn’t want to now.

“But didn’t you say it hurts?”

“It does, but I’ll take care of it.”

His lips thinned, cocking a brow. “Don’t be difficult, Evelyn.”

“No,” I whined, but he didn’t listen while he proceeded to slip them away. I looked at the ceiling, giving up. Sweat started gliding down my back as heat crept its way to my cheeks. His hands stilled when they reached halfway down my knee. And I knew exactly why.

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