Page 51 of Lost in You (The Monroes 3)

“Then don’t be an ass.”

Liam took hold of her elbow and led her toward the staircase. “Come up h

ere and let me fix this.”

“It’s a Band-Aid, Liam. I can handle it myself.”

His eyes turned to her. “Let me do this.”

And here was his white knight side. The side she didn’t want to find so appealing, yet she did. The side he brought out after he’d been a jerk, and she realized when he was a jerk, it was because he was afraid. He may have yelled at her moments ago, but he didn’t know what she’d done and he’d been worried.

Why did he have to have so many redeeming qualities? Couldn’t she just find his excellent muscle tone enough? Couldn’t she just be happy with the visual turn-on instead of getting inside that head of his and dissecting every move, every word he said?

Macy stepped from his grasp and gestured silently toward the stairs, giving him the green light to go on. The man really did need to learn that she’d been an adult for quite some time and could do this herself.

Liam unlocked the door and pushed it wide so she could enter. Strange having someone else let her in, but this was the new normal.

“Have a seat.”

He motioned to the couch and stalked off toward the bathroom. Macy remained standing.

When he came back with his first-aid box, he took one look at her and shook his head. “Do you have to be so defiant all the time?”

“Do you have to be so bossy?” she threw back.

With a growl, Liam sat the box on the coffee table and took her arm and jerked her toward the couch. Okay, maybe he didn’t jerk her, Macy thought, but he didn’t leave her much option. Stubborn man.

He took a seat on the coffee table, leaving her no choice but to put her legs on either side of his. The scenario was much too intimate for her comfort level.

When it came to Liam, she was a mess. He occupied way too much of her mind, way too much of her life. And the last time she’d been near him he’d issued an ultimatum that she was still trembling with need from. Would he follow through or had he been just matching her words?

Liam reached for her hand and carefully pulled off the old, torn Band-Aid. The burn was healing nicely, but the nail had scratched the surface pretty good.

With a clean swab, he applied more antibiotic ointment, then placed a new bandage on her palm. His face lifted to hers, the left side still turned so she couldn’t look at him straight on.

“I hate seeing your skin marked,” he muttered, still holding on to her hand. “I know this wasn’t a big deal, but I can’t stand the thought of you hurt.”

Her heart clenched. “Is this your way of apologizing for yelling at me?”

Those dark eyes briefly met hers, held, then shifted back down to focus on her hand. “No. I’m not sorry, because you could’ve been hurt worse and you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”

Macy wanted to snap back, to throw a defense in his face, but the fear lacing his words had her biting her own retort back. He’d legitimately been worried.

He continued staring down at her hand like he was lost or confused . . . or didn’t want to let go.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, so low she almost questioned if she’d heard him right.

“What are you doing to me?” With his head still bent down, he raised his brows and sought her gaze. “I’m not angry with you, I’m angry with myself for wanting you, for letting things get too far out of control with us.”

Her heart kicked up. “We haven’t gotten too far out of control.”

Heavy lids lowered, a quirky smile hinted on one side of his mouth. “In my mind, baby, we’ve done it all, in every way you can imagine.”

Macy’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart clenched. For a man who pushed her away, called a truce, and then promised to bring his A game next time he saw her, he was well on his way, and she didn’t know if she should be afraid or jerk off her clothes and make this happen.

“My imagination is pretty vivid,” she said.

The muscle in Liam’s jaw clenched. “Don’t challenge me.”

---