Page 55 of Major Penalty

She doesn’t say anything at first, and neither do I, waiting for the shoe to drop.

She swallows, shifts her weight, and lifts something in her hands.

“Can I come in?” she asks gently, lifting up a first aid kit so I can see it.

She…she came here with a first aid kit?

I blink at her a couple of times, studying her face, trying to figure out what’s going on. Did Livia force her to come here? She doesn’t look scared. She looks…worried. Concerned. And that just makes it more confusing.

I don’t answer; I simply step back and let her walk past me. And then I close the door, sealing her in with me.

Chapter fifteen

~IRENE~

The door closes behind me with a quiet click, making my pulse skitter. I feel like I just stepped into something irreversible. This is no longer innocent or casual. This isn’t about professionalism, helping a player, or playing it safe. I’m crossing a line, and I love the rush of it. All of me loves the thrill of being alone with Ares in his room.

With a shaky breath, I make my way toward the large bed and lower myself on it.

The moment I set the kit down, I feel his eyes drop to it again.

“How’d you know which room I was in?” His voice is quiet, careful, measuring me.

“I asked Livia this morning,” I reply, peeking up at him. His jaw shifts, but he doesn’t respond; he stands there waiting, expecting me to explain myself further.

I swallow hard, nerves tightening in my chest. I’m in his room, this close to him, and everything inside me is buzzing with energy. I’ve been close to him before. But this time, it feels different. It feels like I’m about to make a choice I can’t undo, only it’s one I know I’m ready for.

“Sit,” I say, patting the side of the bed next to me, trying to sound more confident than I feel. When he raises a dark brow, I quickly add, “You’re bleeding.”

His gaze flicks down to his hand, where blood is drying in streaks over the skin, and I see a small recognition of the situation in his eyes, maybe an acceptance. Then, he moves. Lowering himself onto the bed next to me. His weight makes the mattress dip beneath him, his broad shoulders filling the space, his body a solid force. It should intimidate me, especially after what I saw. But all I can focus on is the need to take care of him like he took care of me when that guy was going too far.

I grab what I need—antiseptic, gauze, a few alcohol pads—my fingers shaking slightly as I open the packet. When I move closer, I feel my pulse spike. I take his hand in mine, and the contact is electrifying. His hand is warm, big, strong, and covered in ink and blood. For a moment, I forget to breathe. The steady beat of my heart is loud in my ears.

I press my lips together, trying to steady myself as I start cleaning the wound. The alcohol should sting, but he doesn’t flinch. His gaze stays fixed on me, heavy and constant. I can feel him watching my every move, and it makes me dizzy. The force of his attention, the way he looks at me like he’s trying to see through me, it’s making my heart pound in my ears.

“You know,” I murmur, “that guy could press charges.”

Ares exhales through his nose, and I glance up.

“If you weren’t watching,” he says quietly, “I would’ve killed him.”

A chill trickles down my spine. I should be horrified. Instead, I feel a dark curl low in my belly. Because I know he means it. Because he would’ve done it for me.

“Are you afraid?” His voice is low.

My fingers stop for just a second.

“Of what?” I know what he means, but I make him say it.

Ares tilts his head, his gaze narrowing, waiting. I inhale unevenly before shaking my head.

No. I’m not scared. Not of him. Not of what he did tonight.

Because the same hand that just split open skin, broke bone, sent a man crumbling to the ground… made flower crowns for a dozen little kids. The same hand dragged down my thigh, slid between my legs and pressed against me until I was shaking.

My breath catches, and suddenly, I can’t stop thinking about it. About this same hand, this same bloodied, bruised hand, being the one that touched me there.

My thighs clench as heat flares in my cheeks.

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