I watched, somewhat fascinated, as Luke pulled in his very nice lower lip and bit it with his equally nice, straight, white teeth. The Bad Boy Brigade all looked at each other with knowing equally (almost) pissed off in male camaraderie faces and they took a step back.
Then Luke grabbed my upraised wrist and yanked me up my walk and into my house.
“Luke!” I yelled.
He ignored me, walked up the stairs and took me to the bathroom where we stopped.
“Where’s your first aid?” he asked.
I stared at him, surprised at his question, thinking he was going to lay into me. “What?” I said.
“First aid. Your palms.”
Oh. My palms.
“Closet,” I told him, motioning with my hand to the closet door.
He walked to the bathroom closet and pulled out the first aid kit. He opened it, sorted through it, found what he wanted and dragged me to the sink.
“Wash your hands,” he ordered.
I did what I was told, finding his behavior somewhat intriguing. I could tell (hell, anyone could tell) he was angry but he was controlling it and taking care of me.
Hmm.
He’s very nice. And you can tell he’s mad but he’s still being lovely. I like that, Good Ava informed me.
He’s hot when he’s all pissed-off-but-controlling-it. Jump him! Bad Ava suggested.
I blinked away my advice angels, finished with my hands and buried Luke’s most recent behavior right alongside all the rest of it.
He’d gone back to the closet and nabbed a clean hand towel. He tossed it to me and I dried my hands carefully while he took a washcloth, wet it and went to work on the blood on my chest.
“Luke.”
“Quiet.”
I shut my mouth. I knew what Luke’s “quiet” meant when said in that tone and I didn’t want a repeat of Hard Angry Kiss.
He finished wiping off the blood, took the towel from my hands, threw them both in the sink and wiped at my scrapes with an alcohol swab. I sucked in breath at the sting but he kept going albeit gently.
He tossed the swab in the trash and then looked at me. “Now. Share.”
I didn’t have to ask what he meant. I took in a deep breath.
“Well…” I said and stopped, not certain how to proceed.
Luke got close, his patience visibly waning. “Ava.”
“All right,” I said and leaned back. Then I told him the story of Dom flirting, Dom touching, Dom cornering me in the kitchen and that being the reason Sissy left him. I told him about Dom’s threat to “get what I want”. I finished on a description of the last forty-five minutes.
Luke was silent after I stopped talking. His face was hard but I saw his eyes were working. I also saw his jaw was working too, clenching and unclenching and I did not take this as a good sign. I held my breath while this happened.
Finally he said, “Pack a bag.”
“Excuse me?” I asked on a gush of air.
“Pack a bag.”