Page 44 of This Pack of Ours

I did not.

I was still sitting there when he opened the door, a large duffel bag in his hand. He knelt next to me, and his gaze locked with mine. My head was still spinning.

“Ready?” he asked, turning to unzip his bag. It was stuffed full of medical supplies.

“Why do you have a whole clinic in your bag?” I asked, staring at it.

He gave me a small smile.

“That’s our job. We’re paramedics. And we keep our own first response kit on hand in case of emergencies… like this.”

This was definitely an emergency. I wasnotprepared to deal with the fact I now had a sexy paramedic looking after me. I was frantically trying to stamp out the images of what his ass would look like in that tight uniform.

I managed to stabilize my heart rate as he sanitized his hands and pulled out a penlight. He shone it into my eyes, got me to track his finger.

“I’m going to touch you now, alright?” he said, putting on some gloves. “Need to see if you’re bleeding.”

He hovered in front of me, waiting.

“Sure,” I muttered, and his warm hands took my head, very lightly touching the back. I winced, and he pulled back, handing me a cold pack. “Any nausea? Dizziness?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“No blood, but you’re going to have a nasty bump. You’ve got a concussion. You’re going to have to take it easy. Rest. No driving.”

“Great,” I groaned, trying to apply the cold pack.

He held out some painkillers, and I inspected them closely before swallowing them. He soaked a gauze and brought it to my face, before hesitating.

“Your, uh, mouth," he said, holding it out. Right. The blood from biting him. I took it from him and scrubbed my face, not meeting his eyes.

“You should probably lie down," he said, glancing at the couch.

No.

I couldn’t stay there. Kit was in the nest and the door wasn’t locked. And I didn’t think I could stand up, let alone walk over there and secure all the locks.

“I need you to move the couch in front of the bedroom door.” I said.

He looked at me as if I was joking, and I glared at him.

After a beat, he shrugged and set to work, moving one end at a time so it didn’t make much noise. I scowled as I stared at the collection of crumbs where the couch had been.

He came back over, and I swallowed my pride as he lifted me up and carried me over, setting me down gently. I grabbed my blanket and hugged it tightly before snuggling down and putting the cold pack in place.

I looked up to find him back by the duffel bag, rinsing his bite wound with saline.

I wouldnotapologise.

No way.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

His eyes flicked up to mine.

“Got me pretty good,” he said, a smile tugging at his lip. “So, uh, what were you doing?”

Heat rushed to my face as my mouth dropped open. “I wastryingto rescue my blanket!” I said, my voice a high-pitched whisper. “You hadnoright to come and sleep out here and stink up my stuff.”

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