Chapter 28
When we got inside, Jay motioned for me to wait by the kitchen counter. “Just wait here for a moment,” he said. “I’ll grab my first aid kit.”
I nodded obediently, holding the napkins to my head as Jay disappeared into another room.
I took a deep breath, berating myself for being so accident-prone. Why did I have to be such a klutz? First, the hammer incident, then the zip-line harness, and now this?
Jay returned moments later, carrying a small medical kit, and my embarrassment only grew. He set the tote on the counter and turned to me.
“Let me see.”
I didn’t immediately pull the napkins away from my head. My eyes flickered warily to the first-aid kit.
“Wait, are you even allowed to stitch me up?”
Jay paused and gave me a slow, dry look.
“What,” he said, “because I’m not a real doctor?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.” Of course, he was reminding me about the day I found out he wasn’t, in fact, a podiatrist.
“No?” His brows rose, and a smirk rose to his lips. “Well then, it shouldn’t be a problem for me to help you.”
“Jay—”
Before I could protest again, his hands fell to the curve of my waist, and he lifted me onto the counter.
Holy crap. I hadn’t expected him to lift me so easily.
The granite was cold even through my sweatpants, and I shivered.
Jay stepped between my legs without hesitation, his fingers finding the edge of my jaw and pressing gently. “Tilt your head.”
“Jay, seriously…” I whispered, suddenly flustered. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“Unless you’re planning to report me to the dental board—” He removed the napkins. “Stop worrying.”
Up this close, I could see the five o’clock shadow on his jawline and the faint sign of crow’s feet in the corners of his dark blue eyes.
There was something so much more… mature about him.
Maybe it was simply because he was seven years older than I was.
But I didn’t think it was just that. He held himself in a way that made it seem like he’d experienced some things in his life.
He grabbed an alcohol wipe and began cleaning the area. I winced as the antiseptic stung.
“Hey. Eyes on me, Amapolita,” he demanded gently.
My gaze snapped up to his.
“Good,” he said softly. “I need your head to stay at this angle. It helps if you’re looking at me.”
I swallowed. With him so close, I could smell the scent of pine and campfire clinging to him. It was positively intoxicating.
He reached back into the kit and pulled out a small metal aerosol can.
“Lidocaine.” Jay held it up to show me before pressing down on the white cap. The spray was cool against my skin, a crisp sting that quickly softened into numbness.
“As I start stitching you, you need to tell me if you feel it,” he murmured, navy eyes intense, completely locked in on what he was doing.
He set the lidocaine aside and picked up the suture needle and thread. The room suddenly felt too warm, and I started to feel lightheaded.
You numb people’s gums all the time, I reminded myself. This should not be making you queasy.
But apparently, once needles left the boundaries of the oral cavity, my brain decided to get full-body heebie-jeebies.
“Hope, are you scared?” He immediately stopped what he was doing.
“I’m not.”
His brow lifted. “Hope.”
“Fine. Maybe a little.” I cleared my throat. “Just—needles outside the mouth freak me out.”
His brow furrowed. “You anesthetize people all the time.”
“That’s different.”
“How is that different?”
I glared. “Because I’m the one holding the needle.”
Jay’s mouth tugged back up into a slow, knowing half-smile. “Ah, Claro. So control issues.”
“Oh, shut up.”
He resumed, positioning the needle. “Just an observation.”
I sucked in a breath as he prepared to do the first stitch.
Jay’s voice softened. “Hey. Respira.”
I tried my best to exhale steadily, but it was still a bit shaky.
“Tell me about your writing. It’ll distract you.”
“My writing?” I repeated.
“Yeah. Tell me how it’s going.”
I tried to focus on his eyes instead of the needle hovering near my face. “Um… I, uh—I’m working on a new chapter.”
He nodded, starting the first stitch. I felt the tug more than the pain, but still flinched.
Jay’s voice dipped low. “Breathe.”
I exhaled shakily.
“What’s the chapter about?”
“It’s uh…it’s kind of a turning point.”
“For your main character?” He tightened the knot on the suture.
“Yeah,” I said. “She figures out a way to keep her gallery open, but she realizes it’s gonna take a lot of sacrifice.”
Jay hummed, expression unreadable. “And what’s going to happen after the sacrifice, after she figures out how to keep the gallery open?”
I blinked. “I’m not exactly sure yet.”
“It’ll come, I’m sure,” he said as he tied off another stitch.
“I hope so.”
“It will if this is what you want. This is still what you want, right?” He paused for a moment, his hands going still. “Have you had any second thoughts on dental school?”
My defenses went up almost instantaneously. Just the mere mention of dental school had me feeling all sorts of prickly.
“Same thoughts,” I assured him, my tone a little sharper than I intended. “I don’t want to go back.”
“Hey, easy. I’m not asking you to defend yourself.” He reached for the scissors and cut the suture. “I only asked because I didn’t know if some distance had given you a different perspective or if your feelings on it are the same. I was only curious.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, hating how sensitive I was around all things dental related. “It’s just—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” He pulled out some clear tape from his first aid kit and carefully pressed it over the sutures. “I get it.”
I was about to say something else, but then he stepped back from the space between my legs, and I lost the courage. He went over to the garbage to carefully dispose of the needle and bloodstained gauze and napkins.
“It’s done,” he said, the lid of the trash clinking shut. “The stitches will dissolve in about a week or so.”
I reached up to lightly touch where the stitches were. “Thank you.” I pushed myself off the counter, and as my feet hit the ground, a slight lightheadedness swept through me. I clutched the counter, but Jay was at my side again almost instantly, his hand meeting the curve of my waist, steadying me.
“Whoa, hey.” His brows pulled together in concern. “Are you feeling dizzy?”
“It’s nothing.” What is wrong with me? I really needed to get a grip.
“Hope, you might have a concussion.” His jaw clenched, but then he finally released me, and I stepped away, begging my body to behave so I wouldn’t look like such a freaking damsel in distress.
“I couldn’t have hit my head that hard,” I grumbled.
“Even if it’s a minor concussion, someone should probably wake you up periodically to monitor for any dangerous symptoms.”
I immediately shook my head. “I can’t ask someone to do that. Every few hours seems like a bit much. I can just set an alarm.”
“If you’ve lost consciousness, Hope, an alarm won’t wake you up. I should probably come up and check on you once or twice, at least, to make sure you’re okay.”
I flushed, imagining him anywhere in my bedroom. No way would I be able to sleep knowing he would be coming up to check on me.
“I really don’t think it’s necessary.”
“One night of monitoring, okay?” Jay said, giving me a small, tight smile. “More for my sanity than yours.”
I rolled my eyes but found myself nodding. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“That will.”
“Okay, fine.”
“Just leave the side door open. I’ll come up in a few hours.”
“Okay,” I said, wanting to argue more but deciding against it. He was already walking away, putting the kit away in the cupboard, and I had a feeling any further arguments would be futile.
Because that was just how he was.
Insufferable. Always insufferable.