The scream that came out of me when he fell in the ring… every part of me begged for him to get back up, to give me some kind of sign that he was still alive. Hindsight is a funny thing.
Jack doesn’t seem too interested in reliving the fight either. He watches my hands as they deftly attend to his wounds. “You learn how to patch a guy up like this in medical school?”
“I’ve patched guys up more times than I can count.” Before I even got to medical school. But I don’t need to say this out loud; Jack already seems to understand.
“Handsome guys?”
I smirk a little, fingers lingering on his muscled chest. “Sometimes.”
Jack’s answering smile is slightly obscured by his swelling lip, and I can’t help chuckling at how ridiculous it looks. The laughter takes root quickly. Maybe it’s just the ridiculousness of the whole situation or the fact the adrenaline is still coursing through me, but I have to bite my lip to stop the waves of giggles that threaten to spill out.
Then Jack starts laughing too. It’s a wonderful sound, so familiar and yet somissed.
The floodgates open, and we sit there like two crazy people laughing in the locker room together. By the time we’re done, tears have started streaming from my eyes.
Jack suddenly winces and grabs his chest. “Ow.”
“Stop laughing!” I say between residual giggles. “You’ve broken a rib.”
“That would do it,” he says with a wry smile before lying back with a sigh. “I don’t like fighting with you.”
I return to the task at hand, “Well… I don’t like watching you fight.”
“I’ll stop if it makes you happy.”
“There’s still one more round,” I point out.
Jack deflates a little. “Right.”
“Do you think Padraic will stop punishing you after that?”
“Maybe. Depends.”
“On what?”
“If I win, it’s a good look for the family—but I’ll be celebrated, and that means Padraic is no longer the center of attention. If I lose, I’ll be humiliated like Padraic wants, but he risks being ridiculed by other families. It’s a game of pride versus ego.”
“Then throw the next match,” I say a little too passionately. “I don’t care about Padraic’s fucking pride.”
Jack looks at me curiously. “You think I can’t take it?”
“You won on a technicality! If you’d fallen a second earlier, you’d have both lost.”
“Picked up a few of the rules, did you?”
“I’m serious, Jack. You could have been seriously hurt.”
He watches me for a moment before concluding, “You were worried.”
“Do you see anyone else in here tending to your wounds?”
“Aimee…”
The way he says my name sends shivers down my spine. It’s like every part of him is calling to me, inviting me in. And dear God, have I missed this. Being apart from him, then seeing him get hurt in the ring pained me more than I could have imagined.
But right now, he’s my patient, and we’re not out of the woods yet.
“The sooner we get you clean, the sooner we can leave,” I state quietly, and he seems to get the message. Not here.