Page 59

“There’s an urgent care three long blocks from the natural history museum,” he says, moving quickly back down the path, as if I weigh nothing.
And yes, Iama small human, especially considering how much I love sugar, but I’m notthatsmall and he’s not a superhero. He’s obviously hopped up on some serious adrenaline and needs to take it down a notch.
“Hunter, please, calm down,” I say, earning a sharp glance from my irate knight in shining armor. I smile, “Please. I know that was scary, but I think I’m okay. Really. Can we just go to your place? It’s closer. And that way, if we take a look at the wound, and decide I need to go to urgent care, I can bring a book and a snack with me. Emergency medical attention always takes forever.”
“You need to go to urgent care now,” he growls, his arms tightening around me. “You hit your head hard enough that I heard it hit the pavement. You probably need a CT scan.” He exhales before glancing down at me again and slowing his breakneck pace the slightest bit. “Though your eyes do look better. Less clouded.”
I rest a hand on his chest, where his big, protective heart is beating fast. “I feel much better than when I first fell. Honestly.”
“When you wereknocked down. You didn’t fall.” His gaze darkens as he adds, “What kind of irresponsible parent lets their teenager take a giant puppy to the park without a leash? I’ll tell you what kind,” he continues, without waiting for me to respond. “Assholes. And idiots. Who are raising another generation of asshole idiots. What happened to parenting? Isn’t anyone doing that anymore? If that were my kid, I would ground him from video games for a month for a stunt like that.”
“Agreed,” I say, unable to resist the opportunity to push my agenda, even if my headisthrobbing. “That sounds like an appropriate consequence for an ill-advised decision. See? Your parenting instincts are solid!”
He glares at me again, less amused by my tomfoolery than he was before.
“Right?” I squeak with a sheepish smile. “I’m feeling good enough to annoy you. That means I’m on the mend. So, maybe we can try ice and a bandage at home, and then see how I feel?”
He shakes his head slowly for a beat before he mutters, “Fine.”
“And you can put me down,” I say. “I really can walk.”
“I can carry you just as easily,” he says, making no move to put me down as we pass back by the playground. “You’re a runt.”
I start to lift my brows but stop when it makes the pain worse. “I amnota runt.”
“You are,” he says, staring ahead. “Five feet and three quarters inches? That’s barely adult-sized.”
I huff. “Take that back. I amfullyadult-sized.”
“There’s a reason you’re the only person who can wear those tiny vintage clothes you buy,” he says. “Growth was stunted back then, back when they didn’t have year-round access to proper nutrition or medicine.”
My jaw drops as I sputter, “S-stunted? Stunted? Really? On behalf of the shorter people of the world, I want you to know how deeply offensive you are. Additionally, it’s way better to be a ‘runt’ than a giant tall person sucking up more than his fair share of natural resources to support his huge body and even more massive head. Not to mention his grotesquely swollen ego. We can’t forget about that.”
He stops at the crosswalk and finally glances down at me, a relieved smile creeping across his face. “Maybe youareokay. That was a coherent stream of insults.”
I exhale a laugh, my irritation vanishing. “You were just messing with me?”
“Maybe a little bit,” he says, before adding fondly, “I happen to be a fan of runts. At least this one.”
“Tall people are okay, too,” I say, relaxing into his arms. “Mostly.”
“Thanks,” he says. “Now, let’s get you home.”
Home…
Itdoesfeel like home. As soon as we start across the lobby, Alex hurries to call the elevator, fussing over me and assuring Hunter she can have an ambulance here in five minutes or less if he decides I need one. And the moment we step into the penthouse, the familiar smell of leather furniture and the potpourri I bought at the Union Square farmer’s market eases my frazzled nerves.
In the bathroom, where Hunter and I have already made so many happy, steamy memories, he settles me on the counter and carefully examines my head. His touch is gentle as he parts my hair to look at the wound, but there’s a slight tremor in his usually steady hands.
He’s so worried, and it’s so sweet, I can hardly stand it.
My heart swells until it feels like it’s going to burst through my chest.
I’ve never had a man care for me like this before. I’ve had men fuck me and laugh with me and give me shit and be my friend or my nemesis or a general thorn in my side, but…that’s it.
I don’t have a father. I’veneverhad a father. As a kid, there was no trusted male adult in my life who picked me up when I fell and put Band-Aids on my owies. My mom was in charge of all that, as well as everything else. And maybe I should have had a relationship with a man that reached the “let me nurture you” stage by now, but I haven’t.
This is the first time a human with a penis has made me feel like he wants to help care for my fragile human shell—blood, bumps, bruises, and all.