Page 39 of Break the Barrier

“Did you snoop through my house?” I ask in jest.

“Of course I did,” she answers quietly and leads me into the bathroom. “You left me here alone for hours, what was I going to do, not snoop?”

“Fair enough,” I reply and dutifully sit on the closed toilet where she sets me.

“Where’s your first aid kit?”

“In the main bathroom,” I answer, my eyes pinched shut. I didn’t think I was so badly injured that I was getting loopy, but I did have my horse spook on me, and there was the slight chance I had a minor concussion.

I hear her come back just as I’m trying to peel my button-down shirt off.

“Logan.” Thea’s voice is scolding, and I pause.

“What?”

“You need to hold still.” She sighs. “I haven’t had a chance to see how bad it is. There’s still a chance you need to go get stitches.”

There was absolutely no way in hell I was getting stitches, but I’ll let her have her fantasies for now.

“What happened anyway? Why didn’t Dani or CT or Stetson tell you not to drive?”

I shrug. “Didn’t tell them I hurt myself.”

“Well, how did you hurt yourself?”

“Did you see that lightning storm?”

“Yes, it shook your house,” she answers, her concentrationon taking my shirt off. I really wish it was under different circumstances.

“Yeah, well, it may have spooked my horse, and I may have lost my footing, and I may have fallen and sliced my arm on some fence.”

Her head is close to mine, close enough that I can smell the scent of her soap or shampoo or lotion—whatever it is, it’s addictive.

Her honey eyes connect with mine, and I fight the urge to lean forward and press my lips to hers.

“You may have?” She asks the rhetorical question and shakes her head.

Peeling my shirt over my shoulders, her hand glides over my skin, and I can feel every inch of her body that is touching mine. I try desperately to think about anything else.

The feelings I’m resisting are challenging me in ways I’ve never felt challenged before, but I wasn’t going to spook her.

No, Thea needs me to chill. She needs me to be able to resist her, to not act on those instincts, to keep her safe and protected, even from myself.

She lifts my arm up and sighs. “I still can’t tell if it’s too deep.”

“It’s not,” I assure her.

Her eyes meet mine, and she looks confused for a moment before she shakes her head and grabs a rag, running it under the water before gently cleaning my arm. It doesn’t feel great, but I take deep breaths to keep from moving.

“Does that hurt?”

Her whispered words feel close, and I realize I closed my eyes to focus on not getting fidgety about her rubbing on thewound. “Yes,” I answer honestly, even though something in the back of my mind tells me to lie.

I can hear the smile in her voice. “I’m surprised you said yes.”

“I’m a man, but I can still feel pain.”

Thea pauses, and I open my eyes. She looks at me for a moment, studying me like I’m going to be her next project. It would probably be inappropriate to beg for that, wouldn’t it? To tell her she could study me anytime she wanted, in any place she wanted. To say that I wish I could have her all to myself so I could return the favor and beg to see every inch of her the way she sees every inch of me.