Page 35 of Ethan
His mouth curved, just slightly. “So… you did miss me stopping by the clinic?”
I scowled. “No.”
“You’ve mentioned me not stopping by the clinic twice since you got here.”
Damn it. He wasn’t wrong.
Before I could fire back, Dean closed the distance between us in a few easy steps. My breath caught as he tugged his shirt up, baring a stretch of golden skin and the sharp ridge of his abdomen.
A fresh bandage was wrapped around his ribcage.
He stood close enough now that I could see the sheen of sweat clinging to his collarbone, smell the tang of exertion mixed with something sharper, like cedarwood and smoke.
My wolf stirred, ears pricking, curious. Interested.
I wanted to retort, to shove the words back at him, but instead I found myself leaning in, focusing on the bandage. “May I?” I asked.
He nodded.
Carefully, I peeled back the bandage. The wound looked much better. The angry red had faded, though the skin around it still stretched tight and fragile, like it could split open again with one hard hit.
A knot of frustration twisted in my chest. I hated seeing the limits of my healing, that I hadn’t been able to close it completely when he first came in. I should have done better.
But he was obviously taking care of it. The bandages were clean, changed regularly, the edges of the wound knit tighter than I’d expected.
My fingers brushed along his ribs as I checked the area. The skin was hot under my touch, the hard planes of muscle shifting with each shallow breath.
A drop of sweat slid down, tracing the cut of his abs before disappearing into his navel.
I tried to focus on the scabs forming along the smaller scratches, coaxing a little extra healing into them with each pass of my fingertips.
Still, my attention betrayed me, lingering on the goosebumps that rose wherever my fingers passed.
“Enjoying yourself?” I nearly jolted at Griffin’s voice.
He’d wandered back from the water cooler, smirking like he’d caught me red-handed.
“What are you even doing here, Ethan? Who’s manning the clinic? If Devon were still around, he’d bury you in paperwork for abandoning your post. You’re the only healer here now, and you’re lurking in the gym?”
I knew he was teasing me. Griffin never missed a chance, but the words landed heavier than usual. A nagging feeling of not doing enough pressed tight against my chest.
I huffed. “Like I said, part of my job is making rounds, checking for injuries before they get worse.” I pointed at his forearm, where the beginnings of a bruise were starting to form. “Case in point.”
“It’s fine,” Griffin said immediately, dismissive. “Dean’s kick wasn’t that hard.”
“Griffin.” My tone sharpened. “Let me do my job, or I’ll tell Michael you’re skipping healer checks again.”
His smile faltered. With a sigh, Griffin held his arm out. “You’re such a pain,” he muttered.
“Mm-hm.” I pressed my palm lightly on his arm, coaxing away the heat before it could set deeper.
“Thanks,” he grumbled, then turned back to Dean. “Break’s over. Back on your feet.”
I moved along the gym, tending to a few minor cuts and bruises from other enforcers. But even as I worked, I couldn’t keep my eyes from drifting back to Dean.
The first time it happened, he caught me watching just as he went in for a sweep. His focus wavered, and Griffin took him down in one clean motion.
“Eyes forward,” Griffin barked.
