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“It’s nothing.” She tries to get out of my hold, but I don’t release her. “Just a paper cut.” Her voice comes out strained.

I’m lucky she’s such a bad liar.

“That’s not just a paper cut. How did you get it? We should clean and bandage this.”

“It was already cleaned and bandaged. But the bandage was… annoying me, so I took it off. Really, Sebastian, it’s fine.” Her whole body trembles.

Fuck. What happened? Pushing further will get me nowhere. I’ll leave it for now. But I will find out what happened eventually. “I wish you’d let me take care of you.”

“You brought me food, and I’m eating it.” She tries to pull her hand away, but instead of letting go, I bring her hand up to my lips, placing a gentle kiss on the angry red line.

“There. All better.” My lips still brush her palm.

Her eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing it better.” I run my thumb lightly over her wrist. Her pulse flutters wildly. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do with wounds?”

She doesn’t tear her hand away. “I think that only works for kids.”

“It works for princesses too.”

“I’m not a princess.”

“You are my princess.” I release her hand. “Now, finish your food before it gets cold.”

She hesitates, her gaze flickering between me and the container. “Why are you doing this?”

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. “Doing what?”

“This.” She gestures to the food and me. “Bringing me dinner, checking on me. Why do you care?”

Because I can’t get you out of my fucking head. Because I want to be the one to make you smile, to chase away the demons haunting you.

But I can’t say that. Not yet.

So, instead, I shrug. “Can’t a guy do something nice for a pretty girl without having an ulterior motive?”

She picks up her chopsticks again. “I suppose.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the occasional rustle of pages from somewhere in the library.

She savors each bite, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of sauce at the corner of her mouth.

Fuck, I want to be that drop of sauce.

Memories of our last kiss flood my mind. The heat, the desperation, the way she clung to me like I was her lifeline. I want that again. I want her.

But she’s skittish, like a deer ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

I brush my thumb over her knuckles. “I missed you, you know.”

She chokes on the food. “You did?”

“Of course I did. It’s not every day I save a pretty girl, bring her home, and then she disappears for days.”

“I’m sorry about that. I-I didn’t know what to answer.” She picks up her chopsticks again, but I don’t miss the way her hand shakes. Something’s going on with her, something more than just a cut on her palm.

“A simple ‘hey’ would’ve been enough, you know,” I say. “I’m not that hard to please.”

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