27 RHEA
I pace the kitchen, shoveling handfuls of chips into my mouth. The empty house echoes with my footsteps as I try to process what happened earlier with Julian. The ghost of his touch lingers on my skin, but the way he just... left? My stomach churns.
The front door bursts open, shattering my thoughts. Tobias and Julian stumble in, supporting a half-conscious Corey between them.
Blood drips down his bare chest from his wrap, pooling at the waistband of his black slacks.
"Oh Fuck!" The bag of chips hits the floor. "What happened to him? Who did this?"
"Just get the first aid kit, Rhea. Now’s not the time for questions."
Julian orders, his voice rough. There's something dark staining his hands that I’m pretty positive is Corey’s blood.
"Fuck that, he needs a hospital!" My hands shake as I reach for my phone.
"No hospitals." Corey's voice is strained but firm. "Just... need you to patch me up."
"Are you insane? You're bleeding everywhere! You probably need a transfusion.” Tobias helps lower Corey onto one of the kitchen chairs. "Rhea, please."
"This is crazy, you can't expect me to?—"
"Either help or don't," Julian snaps, his earlier tenderness completely gone.
"But make up your mind fast. Cause his life fucking depends on it.” "Fuck.
Get him to the Bathroom. Now." My voice comes out sharper than I intend, but they don’t argue.
Tobias and Julian half- drag Corey down the hall, blood smearing on the tile floor.
My heart pounds in my chest, but I force myself to focus.
I grab the first aid kit from under the sink, hands trembling as I unzip it.
Alcohol wipes, gauze, suture kit—thank God they’re stocked for this kind of insanity.
Corey slumps onto the edge of the bathtub, his face pale but still annoyingly composed. "It’s not as bad as it looks," he says, wincing as he shifts.
"Yeah, because a knife wound to the chest is the equivalent of a paper cut." I snap, kneeling in front of him. The cut is deep, ragged, and still bleeding. "What the hell happened?"
"Just a disagreement," he mutters, leaning back on his hands.
"Disagreement? Were they fighting over who got to stab you first?" I rip open an alcohol wipe, glaring at him. "This is going to hurt. Tobias get me some fucking tequila.."
“On it nurse,” he says while scurrying away.
“Don’t much feel like drinking darlin,” he mutters. Fighting to keep his eyes open.
“It’s not for drinking dummy, it’s to sanitize and hopefully somewhat numb it.” I say, blindly reaching for the bottle Tobias deposited by my foot.
"I don’t need to be numb," he says, his mouth quirking into a smirk. "Guess I’ll just have to be tough."
"You don’t have to act tough," I say, my voice softer now. "You’re already bleeding all over the bathroom."
He chuckles, then hisses as I pour the tequila onto the wound.
"Yeah, I do. Trying to impress you."
"Pretty sure I’m already impressed by the sheer stupidity of this whole situation," I mutter, threading the needle. My hands are steady now, the familiar motion calming me. "Squeeze something if it helps with the pain."
If this man hadn’t already lost a quarter of his blood volume, the wicked grin he just gave me, accompanied by the look in his eye, would warrant a commitment to the seventh floor.
He doesn’t grab the edge of the tub or a towel. His hand slides to my ass, gripping just above my thigh. I gasp, the needle slipping for a moment. "Corey?—"
"Just following orders," he says, his voice low and teasing. His thumb brushes against my skin, sending a shiver up my spine.
"Distracting me isn’t going to make this go faster," I say, my voice breathier than I’d like.
I force myself to focus on the wound, but the heat of his hand on me is impossible to ignore.
Every stitch feels charged, every touch of my fingers against his skin almost too intimate.
His breath hitches as I work, and I can sense the tension in his body, the way his grip on me tightens just slightly.
"You’re good at this," he murmurs, his dark eyes locked on mine.
"Yeah, well, stitching up idiots wasn’t exactly in my job description," I shoot back, but there’s no venom in it. The air between us is thick, the kind of tension that makes it hard to breathe.
My fingers brush against his chest as I finish the last stitch, and I feel the way his heart pounds under my touch.
"You done?" His voice is a low rumble, his hand still firmly on my ass.
"Yeah," I whisper, my mouth suddenly dry.
"Good." His other hand comes up to my chin, tilting my face toward his. For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, but he just smiles, that infuriatingly cocky smirk that makes my stomach flip.
"Thanks, Doc."
I roll my eyes, but my face is burning. "Next time, try not to get stabbed."
"No promises," he says, letting go of me slowly, like he’s reluctant. I stand, putting some space between us, but the warmth of his touch lingers. The tension in the room is still crackling, and I’m not sure if I want to run or stay.
Before I can step back, Corey's hand cups the back of my neck and pulls me into a kiss.
It's nothing like our heated exchange in his office - this is soft, almost reverent.
His lips brush against mine with a gentleness I didn't expect from someone who just got stabbed.
My hands rest on his bare chest, careful to avoid the fresh stitches, and I melt into him.
He breaks the kiss but keeps me close, his forehead resting against mine. "Stay with me tonight? Please?"
"What?" I blink, trying to clear my head. “Did you just say please?” "I might have a concussion." His thumb traces circles on my neck.
"Need someone to keep an eye on me. Make sure I don't slip into a coma or something equally dramatic." He says with a salacious grin.
I snort. "That's the worst excuse I've ever heard."
"Is it working?" His eyes dance with amusement, despite the pain I know he must be in.
"You're impossible." But I'm already smiling. "Let me go tell the others your prognosis. Go lay down Casanova."
I find Julian and Tobias in the kitchen, Julian scrubbing blood off his hands while Tobias raids the fridge. The tension from earlier still crackles in the air, especially when Julian's eyes meet mine.
"He's fine," I say quickly, focusing on Tobias instead. "Stitched him up, but I want to keep an eye on him tonight. Make sure there's no... complications."
Tobias raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment. Julian, however, slams the water off. "Right. Complications."
"Goodnight, boys." I turn before either can respond, my cheeks burning. The memory of Julian's touch earlier wars with the lingering sensation of Corey's kiss, and I push both aside. One crisis at a time.