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“He shouldn’t,” Levi’s voice says from the patio entry.

I stop, looking up at him through my lashes. I swallow the last piece of bagel and finish pouring a few treats into my hand. I feel like I’m caught red-handed, doing something I’m not supposed to be doing, when in fact it’s Gus’s fault for sitting on the damn counter.

When he sees Levi, Gus meows again and jumps down at my feet. He stretches all the way up, placing his cold paws against my left thigh and—pain. Sharp pain lances through the top of my thigh as his claws come out and he tries to reach higher.

I hiss and drop the treats to the floor, tears prickling my eyes. The movement startles him and he lowers his paws. Unfortunately, his claws are still piercing my skin.

“Gus,” Levi bellows. My furry friend grabs a treat in his mouth and runs for the hills.

“No, it’s okay. Don’t yell at him,” I say in a wobbly voice, a few tears escaping me. Fuck, that really stings.

“He knows he’s not supposed to scratch people. For fuck’s sake,” Levi says, frustrated. He runs a hand through his hair and walks over to me, eyes glued to my thigh.

I fight the urge to pull the bottom of my dress down and hide my thick thighs that always rub together. But Levi is not looking at me in a way that’s judgmental or even sexual. His green eyes look concerned.

“That needs to be disinfected,” he says, lips pulling down into a frown.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” I say and look down. Is that blood? How deep did he scratch me?

Levi opens the cabinet under the sink and pulls out a small first aid kit. He sets it on the island behind him and turns to me. “I’ve had smaller scratches that turned into worse wounds before. Trust me,” he says, eyes softening.

I nod and hold back another wave of tears. This wave has less to do with the scratches, and more to do with the fact that Levi seems to…care about me. He really does have my best interests in mind.

He takes my nod as affirmation and opens the kit, getting some kind of antiseptic and gauze out, as well as ointment and bandages.

Then, he does something unexpected. He takes a step closer to me, bends down, wraps his arms around the back of my thighs, and lifts me up.

I yelp, staring down at his face. I don’t even get the chance to wrap my arms around his neck because the next moment, Levi sets me down on the kitchen island, and steps between my legs.

Frozen, I wait to see what he’ll do next. Has he been feeling this attraction between us too and finally wants to tear my clothes off?

Levi’s gaze drops to my bloody thigh, and he reaches for an antiseptic wipe.

Oh. Or maybe he just wants to clean my leg. My disappointment at this realization is forgotten when he runs a cold, wet wipe over the scratches, and my thigh goes up in flames. I hiss in pain at the sting of the antiseptic and kick my leg, trying to get away.

Levi’s firm hand lands on the outside of my knee and holds it in place. His other hand moves rhythmically from top to bottom, again and again.

Even though my eyes are filled with tears from the pain of it all, all my body can focus on is the way he’s touching me. His fingers are hooked around the back of my knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my skin.

I watch him as he works. He’s steady and methodical, making quick work of it. I breathe in and out through my nose, cataloguing all his features.

His hand moves from my knee to my thigh, still holding me in place, while he applies the clear balm over the scratches.

They don’t look as bad as they feel, but they’re long and red, and they definitely stand out against the white of my golf dress.

Levi gently wraps gauze around my thigh, starting at the scratches and going all the way around a few times.

“Too tight?” he asks, voice deep and steady with concentration.

I shake my head. “No, it’s perfect.”

Levi catches my eye and gives me the briefest of smiles, and my heart kicks in high gear once more. Was that him flirting just now? Or am I reading too much into things?

Why is he standing between my legs, touching me, soothing me, when he could have just handed me the kit to take care of it myself?

I should ask. I should find the courage and put the question out there.

Are you into me?