Page 43 of Shame

“Nah,” I answer.

“Doesn’t look like it needs stitches. It isn’t bleeding. What happened?”

“Beer bottle, I think.”

She steps back to look at me. “Someone hit you with a beer bottle?”

I shrug. She asks like it’s the craziest thing she’s ever heard, but on my list of crazy things, getting hit with a beer bottle is all the way at the bottom. Hell, being shot at by a naked drunk guy in the woods isn’t even top ten.

She drops the blood-stained towel on the floor. She opens a small medical kit and pulls out a few things. When she faces me again, I put my hands on her hips, just loving the way she feels. Loving that I can touch her like this. Loving that she lets me.

“This may sting,” she warns before pressing something cold at my hairline. I grunt at the sharp sting, but barely. I’ve dealt with worse.

After she does that, she covers it with a band-aid that makes me smile.

“Really?”

“You don’t want it to get infected,” she argues, and I guess she’s right. All I need is to go out because of a goddamn infection. How pathetic?

She holds my gaze, and I hold hers right back. I can’t tell what she’s thinking or how she feels, but I know I feel like absolute shit.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have called.”

Cora nods slowly, her hands coming up to rest on my shoulders. “Yeah, you should have.”

“I’m not used to this.” She gives me a look that says she doesn’t know what I’m saying. “You know, having to tell someone where I am. Not that that’s what this is, but I’m not used to people waiting on me. No one outside of the club, but even then I usually do my own thing. I should have told you. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Her thumbs run along my neck as a small smile crosses her lips.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

“Better now.”

Her smile turns into a grin, but then it slowly fades.

“I was mad, I won’t lie. Disappointment isn’t something I deal with well. Calling would have helped.”

I nod. “I understand.”

Her hands slide around my neck, and she leans down so we’re eye level. I expect her to kiss me—Iwanther to kiss me. But that’s not what she does. Her eyes shine with humor, excitement, maybe.

“When’s the last time you had a sleepover?” she asks.

“A sleepover?” I question. “I don’t fucking know. Never? Why?”

What the hell kind of question is that?

She lets out a little laugh. “Because I was hoping you’d want to sleep here tonight.”

“Sleep here? Like in this house?” I ask.

She stands tall, taking a slow step back. Giving a little nod, she bites on her bottom lip.

“In my bed, more specifically.” Now, I know it’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman like this, one who is interested in me for me and not because I’m part of the club, but I’m not stupid. This girl is talking all seductive-like because she wants me. There is no fucking doubt about it.

“Fuck,” I breathe out, getting to my feet. “Sign me up, sweetheart.”

Chapter Fourteen

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