Page 119 of Pretty Mess

“Was it wrong that I thought you’d do it yourself without me holding the tissue?” he asks in a revolted tone.

I snort and take the paper from him and wipe my face while he watches me quietly. When I’ve finished, he wets a towel and completes the job to his satisfaction.

He winces when I jerk as he hits a sore spot. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. Just a bit sore.” Finally finished, he cups my face in his big palm, looking at me intently. “Will I live?” I say flippantly.

He taps my chin gently. “Not if you keep getting between people fighting. Whatever possessed you?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His eyes widen. “You wanted to make sureIwas okay?”

“Does that offend your macho pride? Don’t worry. It’s just that Tyler was angry, and I didn’t want him to hurt you. We’d all have feltterribleabout that,” I finish earnestly.

His mouth twitches. “Me, probably most.”

I raise my eyebrows at him, and wince when my bruised skin protests. He examines my face for a moment and then leansforward and drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. It’s so soft it’s barely there, but when he pulls back, his cheeks are flushed.

I want to thank him, but I’m not sure exactly what I’d thank him for. So much has happened. And I’m sure any thanks for his tenderness, for his kindness, would be unwelcome. So I don’t say anything.

He leans against the counter. “So, that is your brother?”

“How did you like your introduction to my family?”

“I’d give it a minus ten as a sensory experience.”

I try not to smile. “I’m sorry you had to walk into that.” I look imploringly at him, suddenly aware of how many rules have been broken today. “I want you to know that I can do better.”

He blinks. “What?”

“My life won’t intrude again and?—”

“Wes, shut up.”

I snap my mouth closed, and his lip twitches. “Wow! That actually worked. What a red-letter day it is for me.” He rifles in the bathroom cabinet and comes up with a tube of antiseptic. “You have a small cut on your forehead.”

I gasp. “Oh my god,doI?”

“Yes, I’m not sure it warrants the level of excitement in your voice, but I’m going to put some cream on it.”

I nod, sitting obediently as he dabs at my face. Satisfied, he steps back. “I’m going to get you some ice. Stay there.”

I nod, swinging my legs and staying on the counter. He’s back in seconds with a towel full of ice. “This might sting,” he warns me, and I hiss as he presses it to my face. “You have a bruise coming up on your cheek. This will take the swelling down.”

“I hope so. Isn’t it the party at the weekend?”

He stops patting me. “Pardon?”

“The anniversary party,” I prompt him. “At the club. You wanted to take me, didn’t you?” The silence lasts a little too long and I frown. “Mac?” I finally say.

“I’d forgotten all about it,” he finally says. He sounds astonished.

“That’s odd for you. You’re always banging on about what a good memory you have.”

One eyebrow rises. “I’m pretty sure I don’t bang on about anything.”

“Only my arse.” I nudge him as he leans closer to look at my eye. “Get it?”