Page 45
Instantly, Angel’s grin dies.
He settles into his calm competency that I found a fucking turn on the moment that I met him for the first time in the hospital when he first treated Luca.
Angel’s gaze zeros in on the burn.
His voice becomes flat. “You’re hurt. You tried to hide it.”
“I did.”
“We’ll talk about that later. Let me treat you now.”
He waits, as he always does, for my permission.
“It’s nothing.” But I nod.
Angel turns to a drawer, pulling out the first aid kit, which is in near constant use with my nicks and burns, and Luca’s constant blisters and sprains.
Angel moves around the table, dropping the kit onto it.
He takes out a pair of medical gloves, sliding them on in a professional way that I will never admit to him also makes me hard.
Then he takes my hand gently in his.
I am always amazed by how gentle he can be, and how soft his hands are.
They are so much smaller than mine.
No one has looked at me…cared about me…with the type of intensity that Angel does.
He has skills that impress me, but his greatest talent is his empathy.
When did that die in so many people?
“It was a car wreck,” I admit. “I managed to get the door open. No passengers. I pulled the driver out. No one was hurt.”
“Hmm, looks like I’m the paramedic in the room, and I’m the one assessing a flash burn right now. I count that as hurt.”
He turns my hand in the light, assessing the burn. I hiss, when he presses his finger firmly against the pink skin.
“One,” he counts, looking satisfied. Then he glances at me. “It’s only superficial. Look at its color. When I pressed on it, it hurt. So, the nerves are okay. Also, it turned white in less than a second, which means the heat didn’t deeply penetrate. It’s only a small burn. We just need to get it under cool water to start with, then I’ll put on that aloe vera gel we sadly use way too much in this pack. It doesn’t need to be covered.”
He pulls me over to the sink and starts to run the water for me.
I have been caring for myself since I was seventeen. When I am hurt is the only time that anyone else cares for me.
My stomach feels strange.
Angel is the sole person who can make me feel like this.
“Put the burn underneath and keep it there.” Angel opens the shutters and then the windows. “That’s to help with the smoke inhalation, which you also didn’t tell me about. Your eyes look sore. After we treat the burn, I will wash your eyes with a sterile saline eye solution.”
He leans on the side next to the sink.
I stick my hand underneath the water, clenching my jaw. “You pissed with me, honey?”
“Why would I be?”
Because I was in danger? Because I almost didn’t come back to you?
