Page 11 of Luckiest Love
He shook his head, “I don’t have friends.”
“Oh. Um. Okay,” she went back to sewing and then she said, “I used to want to get a tattoo, but I don’t know what I would get that means enough to have it on my body.”
He barked out a harsh noise, “I don’t give a fuck what’s on my body. I usually let my tattoo artist decide what he wants to put on there.”
Her eyebrows rose, “Oh? Wow. That’s kind of neat.”
He looked down at her and some unnamed emotion crossed his face.
She finished up his stomach and wrapped the bandage around his ribs.
She had to practically wrap herself around him to do it.
She didn’t really hate it. She got to feel his smooth skin on the guise of wrapping his wound.
When it was tight and she knew he would be okay, she sat back and then made herself busy by cleaning what she could.
When she went to stand, he reached out and caught her hand, “Thank you. For helping me. I know most people would call the cops and I would be in jail right now, but I’m grateful you didn’t.”
She looked down at his hand and then back into his dark eyes and smiled a little, “You are welcome. If you were going to hurt me, you would have when I first saw you. I know I have no reason to trust you, but if you can’t trust others, that’s not the way I want to live. Regardless of the situation.”
He blinked, “That’s reckless of you. What if I was a bad guy?”
She smirked, “You kind of are? Aren’t you? I know it was reckless, but there was something about you. I had a feeling you wouldn’t hurt me.”
He let out a breath, “You make no sense.”
She laughed, “I get that a lot.”
She sobered after a moment, “What are we going to do about the uh,” she coughed, “The dead body out in the alley? I’m sure someone will find it.”
He pulled a phone out of his pocket, “It’s already taken care of.”
She lifted an eyebrow, “Okay?”
He sighed, “I’m not a good man. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you and I won’t, but I’m not kind or someone to cross.”
She sucked in a breath, and he shook his head, "I should probably go."
He stood and swayed slightly and she jumped forward and with a careful touch, he sat back down.
"I think you need to sit for a little while. You lost a lot of blood and even you, the so-called bad guy, aren't indestructible."
He looked down at her hands on him and she lifted them, and he nodded.
She smiled and then walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
He was dangerous. He said it himself. Told her in no uncertain terms he was a bad guy. So why was she so drawn to him? Why did she want to curl up against his solid, tattooed, muscular chest and never leave?
He wouldn't want a girl like her. One that was broken in other men's eyes.
Plus, he was quiet and barely spoke, it looked like he never smiled and she talked to anyone and everyone and smiled all the time.
They were like the darkest night and the brightest day. So completely different in everything.
And she didn't understand why of all the men she had ever met thathemade her libido awaken. She felt like she was coming out of her skin.
He wouldn't look twice at her if she hadn't helped him.
