Page 11 of My Knight

“Because I don’t have pants on, Pirate. I don’t think I should be walking around with just a shirt and shoes on.”

A slow smile crept onto his lips. “Yeah, you might be right about that one.”

He managed to slide my socks on gently and was careful not to touch a bruise or put pressure anywhere that would make me wince. Then he stood and held my jeans.

“Let’s get these pants on, baby.”

“I doubt you’ve ever said those words before,” I mumbled and snatched the jeans from him. “I can get them. You can wait in the hallway.”

He shook his head. “Not happening. You couldn’t bend over to grab your sock. You’re not going to be able to stand and get dressed.”

He reached for the jeans again, but I clutched them to my chest.

“I’m fine.”

He met my eyes, and his voice was calm but firm. “You’re not fine. You had the shit beat out of you not even forty-eight hours ago. You haven’t even felt the rock bottom yet. I’m helping you.”

“I can do it myself,” I insisted.

“Stand,” he challenged. “If you can stand for one minute without stumbling or falling over, you can dress yourself.”

I rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t take me a minute to put on pants.”

“Then stand for a minute, and I’ll know you’re good.”

I wanted to scream. Not at him, really—just in general. I was so tired, sore, and humiliated. If I didn’t just try to do this, he was going to keep hovering like an overprotective hawk. And as much as I kind of liked it, I really wanted him to give me a few seconds of space so I could at least dress myself with a shred of dignity.

“Fine,” I grumbled.

I pushed off the bed and stood. Pain flared across my thighs and hips, and my legs trembled like a baby deer. I swayed slightly, and my arms flailed for balance. My entire body screamed at me to sit back down, but I fought through it. Got my balance and took a shaky breath.

“See?” I said and held out my arms for dramatic effect. “Totally—”

I lost my balance. My knee gave out. The room tilted.

Shit.

Pirate moved fast and wrapped his arms around me just as I started to fall. One arm around my shoulders and one around my waist. I crashed against his chest, and his warmth was immediate. His scent—leather and soap and something undeniably him—washed over me. My face ended up just inches from his, and our eyes locked.

I was embarrassed… but also? A little breathless for a completely different reason.

“Maybe I’m not the most steady,” I whispered.

Pirate chuckled, and his chest vibrated against mine. “I think you need to rest some more, baby. Let’s get you dressed and back to the clubhouse.”

“Clubhouse?” I asked and frowned as he gently steadied me. “What do you mean?”

Pirate kept his arm around me as he took the pants from my hand. “Until we get things settled, everyone’s staying at the clubhouse.”

“Settled? What does that mean?” I asked, my heart skipping.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said simply.

“I think that’s impossible to do.” I had been worried before I had been attacked, and now I was whatever was worse than worrying.

He knelt in front of me again with my pants in hand. “Let’s get your pants on, baby.”

I gave him a warning look. He stayed in front of me but didn’t back down and crouched to guide my feet into the legs of the jeans one at a time. Then he lifted the hem of my hospital gown slightly to pull them up.

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