Page 369 of Faking the Goal

"Ken-chan?"

A low groan leaves him, and his weight starts sinking into mine. My hands scramble for him instinctively, trying to hold him upright, and something warm and wet coats my palm.

I look down.

Blood is spreading across his sleeve.

"No." My stomach drops straight through the floor. "No, no, no—Ken-chan!"

His knees buckle.

"KEN-CHAN!"

CHAPTER 46

KENTARO

The antiseptic stings like a bitch.

I barely react.

I'm sitting on the edge of one of the gurneys in the ER, shirtless, while a nurse wraps a fresh bandage around my upper left arm where the bullet grazed me. The doctor already cleaned the wound and put in a few stitches, assuring me at least three separate times that I was lucky. No muscle damage. No nerve damage. Nothing broken. A shallow graze that looks a hell of a lot worse than it actually is.

Apparently, that isn't good enough for the fiery redhead sitting beside me.

Taylor has been glaring at me for the past ten minutes like she's considering finishing what Charlie started. Her hand is trapped firmly in mine because I refuse to let go of her, and every few seconds her eyes drop to the fresh bandage before snapping back to my face with an even deeper scowl.

"You're still mad at me," I say.

Her glare sharpens.

"No."

The nurse glances between us and wisely says nothing.

I raise an eyebrow. "That face says otherwise."

"This is my regular face."

"Your regular face looks like you're considering murdering me?"

"Currently? Yes."

My mouth twitches.

"Don't you fucking smile at me, Kentaro Azuma."

That only makes it harder not to.

"Not smiling."

"You are literally smiling right now."

"I'm injured. Be nice to me."

Her mouth falls open. "Be nice to you?"

The nurse suddenly becomes extremely interested in arranging medical tape on the tray beside her.