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“You’re bleeding, Wynter. I’m not going to let you walk around with a gash on your knee when I have a first-aid kit.”

That doesn’t mean he needs to patch me up. I should insist on taking care of the cut myself. But there’s something about the prospect of Joshua doing this for me that makes my insides turn gooey.

“May I?”

I blink, confused. “Sorry. What?”

“Your leg. Do you mind⁠—”

“Oh.” I laugh nervously. “Right.”

I lift my leg and rest it on his lap, my pulse climbing. When he curls his fingers around the back of my knee just above my boot, I can barely breathe, every coherent thought vanishing. Warmth spreads beneath his touch. Not just where his skin meets mine, either. It moves through my bloodstream, like someone has poured honey directly into my veins.

I tell myself it’s only because my body is craving any tenderness after learning the man who swore to love and cherish me for the rest of his life traded me in for a newer model. That’s all this is. It has absolutely nothing to do with Joshua.

Nothing to do with his dark, penetrating eyes.

Or his broad shoulders.

Or the fact that his rough hands on my skin make me feel things I haven’t experienced in years.

He gently presses a damp washcloth against my knee, and I inhale sharply.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, easing some of the pressure.

“It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” I drag my gaze from his and pretend to study his office, needing to distract myself from everything I’m feeling. “How long have you worked here?”

“Since high school, more or less,” he answers as he carefully cleans away the blood.

“Really?” I frown. “How did I not know that?”

“You haven’t been around much.” His words aren’t accusatory. Just matter-of-fact.

I haven’t been around much over the past fifteen years. Not really.

At first, I made it a point to come home as often as possible. But as Wyatt’s career took off, supporting him became my priority. My parents didn’t mind. They were only too happy to travel to Wyatt’s games.

At least my father was.

Eventually, Sycamore Falls stopped being home and became somewhere I visited.

Then it stopped even being that.

I shifted my entire life to accommodate Wyatt.

Training camps.

Football games.

Playoffs.

I went wherever he was.

Dropped out of college to follow him into the pros.