Page 50 of Shutout
He’s just leaning there, torso slightly curved to make himself a smidge shorter to rest his hands back on the island’s surface. One of his legs is folded over the other one, like he’s going nowhere. His chin’s tilted back as he watches me.
I whirl around right in time to nick my finger with the knife I was trying to wash.
“Ow!” A drop of blood forms on my fingertip.
And then Brooklyn’s arms are around me.
CHAPTER 19
BROOKLYN
Her breath hitches when I grab her hand to inspect the cut. It’s maybe a quarter of an inch but bleeds pretty profusely. What probably makes it sting even worse is that her hand is all sudsy.
I reach forward to run the tap again. It brings me flush against her, and I don’t move away even as I rinse her hand under the water spray. Instead, I pluck the soggy sponge from her other hand and toss it away, before bring her hand under the tap too.
“I can wash my own hands.” Liv tries to tug free and I don’t let her.
Tucking my chin on the top of her head, I say, “You should also be able to do the dishes without hurting yourself, yet here we are.”
“Touché,” she grouches.
The sane, logical part of my brain is screaming at me to stop. Friends don’t do what I’m about to. But I still let my pea brain take over.
I circle my left hand around both of her wrists, lockingthem in place. With my right hand, I pick up the hand soap container and squirt a little on her hands. I start rubbing the soap on her damp skin, slowly sliding my fingers between hers, up and down—just making sure her skin is thoroughly cleaned off food debris and the more abrasive dish soap. I’m extra careful with her left hand, running the pad of my thumb just under the cut to wipe a way a trickle of blood.
“You know,” I can’t even pretend like my voice isn’t NSFW right now. “You gave me a paper cut recently.”
“Hmm?” That almost sounds like a moan, or it could be my wishful thinking.
I clear my throat slightly. “At the admin office, when I gave you back your schedule.”
“Oh, really? I was in a hurry and didn’t even notice.”
Her voice has always been husky and right now it’s doing things to me. It’s nothing short of a miracle that I can still form coherent sentences.
“In a hurry to not see my face?”
“That’s right.” She chuckles softly. “Feels like a lifetime ago but it was what, a month ago? Two? And now you’re everywhere.”
Not everywhere. I haven’t been in her bed yet.
Shaking my head hard, I step away from her so she can grab the kitchen towel. She passes it over to me and picks up the kitchen roll for herself.
“Go put on a Band-Aid.”
“Yeah, okay.” She keeps her head down as she walks by me, but even her hair can’t hide the blush on her face.
Once I’m alone in the kitchen, I run my lemon scented hands down my face. “What are you doing, asshole? This is the opposite of taking it slow.” Now I can’t get the picture out of my head of her in the shower and my hands soaping her up.
I slap my cheeks hard enough to sting possibly as much asher injury. Tugging my sleeves past my elbows, I set out to work on the dishes now that she won’t be able to.
“Hey, that’s my job,” Liv complains as she returns, her voice dancing behind me as she circles around the island, bringing her vanilla scent closer.
“You’re on drying duty now,” I say, motioning at the growing pile of dishes I’ve placed on the rack. She unhooks a different kitchen rag from a cabinet handle above me, and starts working. “So, the game.”
“Right.”
I offer a grim smile to the cabinet because I’ve never heard her sound so excited to talk about a sport she despises.
