Page 42 of Finn Rhodes Forever

Okay, fine. He wanted to beprofessionalabout applying a bandage to my inner thigh?

Deep down, I wanted to see another flash of that heated look he gave me once in a while, like he was thinking about us on grad night. I took a seat on the log and he knelt at my feet.

His fingers tapped the inside of my knee, and sparks shot up my skin. “Can I get in there, please?”

I tapped my tongue against my top lip, watching him. This would be an exercise in getting stronger, I told myself. Like exposure therapy to Finn’s hotness.

I could totally handle this.

17

Olivia

I shiftedmy leg open a little more, studying his face for any sign of teasing. My stomach was molten, twisting in weird anticipation.

“Thank you.” He pulled out a bottle of antiseptic and shook it, expression neutral.

I frowned.

His hand came to my thigh, warm and solid, and his gaze met mine. “I need to disinfect it.”

I nodded, swallowing. Did I remember to shave my legs? I didn’t want to glance down and draw attention to them. Fuck, his hand on my thigh felt nice. He gave me a light squeeze, holding my gaze. His gray eyes were so clear and bright, rimmed in dark lashes. My heart thumped harder in my chest.

“Deep breath in,” he said, eyes on me.

I sucked in a breath.

“Let it out in eight counts.”

There was something very calming about this version of Finn. It was probably part of Search and Rescue training, learning how to keep people relaxed.

One, two, three—Finn sprayed the antiseptic on me and pain seared across my skin. I gasped and flinched.

“Ow.” My mouth fell open. “That hurt.”

He made a comforting noise in his throat, and something weird flipped in my stomach. He ripped the bandage package open and pulled the wrapper off.

“Poor Livvy,” he said in a low, teasing voice, eyes on where his fingers applied the bandage with care. My pulse tripped at the nickname. “Trying to look ugly and even that doesn’t work.” His eyes flicked up to mine with a little smirk on his face before he brushed the bandage lightly to make sure it stuck.

That brush zinged all the way up to the apex of my legs. A sharp clench around nothing, a flash of quick heat. I sucked a breath in and swallowed.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that,” I whispered.

“Why?”

Because it made me feel things. Because it was sweet and nostalgic. Because it made me forget why I hated him so much.

He arched an eyebrow. “You want me to call you something else? Likegirlfriend?”

Oh my god. I ignored the pulse in my chest and stood. “Thanks for the help.”

He rocked back onto his heels and watched me move around, picking up my bag and digging around inside for nothing to keep my hands busy.

“You should put those other pants on.”

My gaze cut to his. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He burst out laughing. “I would, but that’s not why I said it. The zipper on those shorts is going to bug you all day.”

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