Page 56 of Collide
I shake my head. “You should’ve went to the team’s medic.”
“I did, and I'm fine.” He shrugs. “I didn’t want to be late.”
“Late for what?”
“For you,” he says. “I feel like shit for missing last week because I know what this research means to you.”
Hot coals press harder into my chest cavity. Without another word, I take his hand and pull him off the couch. My tugging doesn’t do anything until he lets it.
“Sit,” I say when we’re in the steamy bathroom.
He gives a tired sigh. “Summer, you don’t have to do this.”
“Tell me what I can do again,” I warn.
He gives me an exasperated look before taking a seat on the toilet lid. I pull out the first aid kit from under the sink, and he parts his legs for me to step between them. Aiden doesn’t flinch when I tilt his head and dab alcohol on the cut. His gaze focuses on my face, and my breath splinters. Aiden rests his arms on his leg, and I feel the light brush of his fingers on the back of my thigh. The touch is hot and prickly, and it makes me itchy all over.
“You know, Hank, our PT, is also our team medic. You could totally replace him.”
“You really have it out for Hank, don’t you?” I chuckle, trying not to look at his lips. “Besides, I’m only OFA certified.”
“You fix up a lot of athletes?”
I shake my head.
“Just me then?”
“Just you.”Why am I whispering?I clear my throat as I dig into the first-aid box to distract myself.
His eyes turn solemn, and the air thickens. “I’m sorry, Summer.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I can't meet his eyes. The energy sparking between us gives me whiplash.
“I did the test this morning.”
My hands freeze mid-dab. “What?”
“I got in touch with Dr. Toor with Kilner’s help, and he referred me to his friend who works at a sports clinic in Hartford. You should get the results of the ACSI-28 test in a few days.”
My sunken heart floats to the surface. “You did?”
He nods. “I should have been there in the first place, Summer. Your work is important.”
I can only stare at the Band-Aids in my hand. He’d completed one of the most important parts of my research without me having to reschedule or plan anything. My lungs have ceased to work, and I have to consciously recall how humans breathe to get oxygen to my blood again. I drag a clammy hand through my hair, but when he touches the back of my thigh I jerk back to the present.
I hold up two cartoon bandages. “Barbie or Bratz?”
He looks dumbfounded. If he didn’t know before how bad I am at accepting it when someone does nice things for me, he knows now. Though he did initially fuck up, so is it really a nice thing?God, who even cares?
His expression smooths into one of understanding. “Does it matter?”
I sign in relief when he doesn’t push about the test. “Immensely.”
With a curve of a smile on his lips, and his fingers unconsciously brushing my leg, he appears deep in thought. “Bratz,obviously.”
I suppress my smile as I put the purple Yazmin Band-Aid on his cheek. The box has neutral bandages I could have used, but I keep that information to myself.
18 | AIDEN
