Chapter 24
SULLIVAN
Isaw her before she noticed me. Bree turned onto the street and strode toward me like the night itself had just been waiting to give her back.
For a second, I forgot why I was even standing in a rough neighborhood with split knuckles and dried blood on my face. She looked like a fucking angel, her dark hair glowing under the streetlights and everything about her somehow haloed.
Shit. Maybe that last punch scrambled my brain.
I blinked hard a few times, trying to clear my head of any thoughts about her being an angel. I pushed off the brick wall too fast, my shoulder protesting the movement, but I shook it off and took a step toward her. “Hey, Bree.”
God. Apparently, that punch also turned me into an idiot. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I know you didn’t want to see me, but I was hoping you could help me out.”
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw my hands. Her eyebrows lifted as her gaze came back up to mine. Without even thinking about it, I held my hands out toward her, my palms down and my knuckles already swelling. Some of the skin was split and the bruising was setting in fast.
Her eyes went wide, her gaze sharp and assessing as she swept it across my knuckles before looking back up at my face. “What the heck happened to you?”
“I went to talk to Neil,” I said.
“Talking usually doesn’t result in a person looking like this.”
“Well, the talking didn’t go well, so I had to pivot.”
Her mouth tightened. “What did you do?”
I shrugged. “Nothing. He’s just an asshole.”
“Sullivan.”
“Fine. We argued and I ended up whooping his ass. That’s it.” She stared at me, one of her eyebrows arching even steeper. I sighed, not exactly proud of it, but I elaborated anyway. “What? He got a couple hits in, but I got more.”
“Are you seriously giving me the, the other guy looks worse line?” Her gaze dropped to my mouth. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” she said immediately. “You look like you got in a fight with a brick wall.”
“Nah, it was mostly just a face,” I said. “In my defense, he does have a very punchable one.”
She shook her head, but there was something else there too. Not approval, but not condemnation either. Somehow, whatever was flickering behind those eyes was both warm and furious at the same time.
“You fought him,” she said. “What are you, sixteen?”
“He left my sister at the altar and he didn’t even have the balls to tell her directly. So I went to confront him and when he tried to explain himself…”
“When he tried to explain himself, what?”
“Let’s just say it got to a point when I stopped listening.”
Her lips pressed together. “You’d better hope he doesn’t press charges.”
A clipped, short laugh came out of me. “Yeah, he won’t. I thought of that before I left and I’m pretty sure I’m safe on that front, but even if he does, no judge in the world would side with him after what he said.”
Bree held my gaze for a moment longer, then sighed and took a step closer before she even seemed to realize she was doing it. Her focus sharpened, cataloguing injuries like she’d fully engaged Caregiver mode now.
“Does anything hurt when you move it?” she asked, nodding at my hands.
I groaned. “Only when I exist.”
“Okay. Come on.” She inclined her chin toward the front door and motioned for me to follow her. “Let’s get you inside. I’ll see what I can do about patching you up with what I’ve got in my first-aid kit.”
Relief hit me so hard, it nearly knocked me over. “Thanks, Bree. I really appreciate this.”
She didn’t respond, simply leading the way to a small but warm apartment with a fabulous view of a brick wall from her kitchen window.
Instantly, I could see that the bones of this place left a lot to be desired, but she’d made it feel homey with pictures on the walls, all sorts of knickknacks on the shelves, and a thriving potted plant on her windowsill.
As we walked in, she pointed at a couch covered in brightly colored scatter cushions. “Sit. I’ll go grab my stuff.”
She said it without looking at me, disappearing into a short hallway. I strode over to the couch she’d pointed at. I sat down, doing my best to move as little as possible as I looked around.
The knickknacks seemed to be keepsakes from vacations or experiences.
There was a pair of Mickey Mouse ears sitting on top of a bookshelf and a few magnets from several piers and lakes on her fridge.
She also seemed to enjoy fun walks and running for one cause or another, judging by the amount of medals hooked over the coatrack by her door.
Staring openly at these things that were clearly important to her, I almost felt like I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar when she walked back into the room. She didn’t even look at me though, barefoot and carrying a first-aid kit with such confidence that I relaxed a little bit.
It looked like she’d done this a thousand times before, and she probably had.
When she came to crouch in front of me, she took my hands like they were fragile and I leaned back on the couch, trying not to say something that would piss her off.
She still hadn’t looked directly into my eyes again, but just before I got to the point where I would have been willing to beg her to do it, that bright blue gaze shot up to mine.
“These need to be cleaned,” she said. “Did you wash them?”
“No.”
She shot me an exasperated look. “Of course, you didn’t. What is this, your first fight?”
I breathed out a huff of laughter. “The first one since I grew a brain, yeah.”
Looking like she was biting back a smile, she nodded. “Okay, well, we’ll have to start by cleaning the cuts. Are you ready?”
I nodded, but the antiseptic stung like hell and I hissed under my breath. She must’ve heard me anyway, because a slight smile spread on her lips when she glanced up again. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“You’re pouring fire on open wounds.”
She pursed her lips at me, like it was all she could do not to roll her eyes. “Just hold still. I promise it’ll be over soon.”
When she picked up the gauze again, I braced myself, determined not to move or even flinch.
It still stung like a bitch, but something about the way she handled me, competent, no-nonsense, and careful without being precious, made me trust her.
This woman had every reason to want to drag out my pain but I knew she wouldn’t.
“You didn’t have to help me,” I said quietly. “You know that, right? I wouldn’t have fired you for saying no.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have to help. You showed up bleeding, for heaven’s sake.”
“I would’ve gone to the hospital,” I said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for barging in on you like this, but I didn’t want everyone there talking. This was personal. It’s none of their business.”
I didn’t say Liana’s name, but it was there anyway. Between us. She finished cleaning the cuts in silence, then wrapped my knuckles with practiced precision. Once that was done, she cleaned the cut on my mouth and then leaned back on her heels, looking up at me.
“You’re an idiot,” she said.
“Probably.”
“Fighting doesn’t fix anything.”
“I know.”
She paused for a beat before she let out a soft sigh. “With that being said, he did deserve to be told off. You’re a good brother, Sullivan.”
Something happened to my pulse, somehow making it speed up and slow down simultaneously. For just a second, I even thought I was going to faint. “You just gave me a compliment.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.” She gave me a quick grin, hesitating before she finally asked, “So you didn’t want to go to the hospital, but you don’t mind me knowing?”
Her voice was steady, but her eyes were searching my face like she was afraid I’d snap at her for voicing the question. Why she thought I’d do that was beyond me, though. I wasn’t the one who’d decided to put this distance between us in the first place.
“You were right there in the middle of it at the wedding,” I said. “You saw what he put her through, so you already know the worst parts, and besides, I trust you.”
Her mouth tipped up into a small, dangerous smile. “You trust me? What makes you think you can do something as silly as that?”
“Because you’re a good person, Bree.” Finally unable to help myself any longer, I leaned forward, putting my mouth right next to her ear. “Even though I know you were the one who put up those flyers.”
She moved her head back just enough to flick her eyes up to mine, and smiled. “Prove it.”
I stood slowly, giving her time to step back if she wanted to, but she didn’t. My wrapped hands hovered at her waist before I let myself touch her, light at first. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t step out of my reach.
“I don’t mind you knowing,” I said. “I mind the rest of the world thinking they’re entitled to it.”
Her fingers brushed my wrist, tracing the edge of the bandage. “You don’t like people seeing you bleed.”
“Only when it’s for something that matters.”
Her thumb skimmed my skin, those blue eyes warm and sure on mine. “You’re welcome to grab a shower. I’d recommend it. You’re still gross.”
I smirked. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Go,” she said, nudging my hip. “Before I change my mind.”
“All I’m hearing is that you want me naked in your apartment.”
She didn’t argue or deny it. “There are clean towels in the bathroom. It’s just down the hall.”
I held her for another beat before I finally managed to convince myself to let go. It turned out that there were only two doors in the hallway, one leading to the bathroom and the other to her bedroom.
I caught a glimpse of her bed in passing and my unhelpful brain immediately supplied images of all the things I still wanted to do to her. So many things. All the things.
My feet slowed down without my brain having given them the conscious command to do it, my eyes sweeping across that bed like my mind was already calculating how to position her to give myself the access I wanted. But I snapped out of it when I heard the faucet in the kitchen opening.
Forcing myself to keep moving, I stripped down as soon as I’d shut the bathroom door behind me. Once I was in the tiny shower cubicle, I turned on the water and stepped under the cool spray, bracing my hands against the tile and letting my head drop forward.
Already rock hard just thinking about her, I tried to breathe through an ache that had nothing to do with the fight.
As the water gradually turned warm, I briefly considered taking the edge off.
With how worked up I was right now, it definitely wouldn’t take long, but something about doing it in her shower felt wrong.
So I willed my body to calm the fuck down, then washed off the dirt and shut off the water, stepping out of the cubicle before I could give in to the temptation.
As she’d promised, there was a clean white towel hanging on the rail and I wrapped it around my hips, glancing at my crumbled suit on the floor.
A wicked idea took shape in my mind, and I didn’t even question it.
Honestly, I wanted her to be tempted too.
I wasn’t at full sail anymore, but definitely at half mast, still very obviously catching wind.
I wanted her and I wanted her to know it, but I also didn’t want to push if she didn’t want it.
When I walked into the living room wearing that towel and nothing else, she looked up from the couch and went very, very still, only her eyes moving to flick to my chest, then my shoulders, then lower before she dragged them back up to my face. “You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Maybe,” I said. “If you want me to—”
Bree cut me off with a firm shake of her head.
Then she was on her feet and closing the distance between us.
Surprise ricocheted through me, but I went with it, catching her in my arms as she wrapped her hands around my shoulders and kissed me.
It wasn’t careful or polite, all heat, and want, and the relief of not pretending anymore.
Her hands slid down my back, her nails biting into my skin just enough to make me groan into her mouth. I backed her up until she hit the wall, my body boxing her in without pinning her. “We don’t have to, Bree.”
She answered by tugging me closer and kissing me harder. Suddenly, nothing hurt anymore. Not my hands, my jaw, or even the knot that had been sitting in my chest for days. There was just her and the way she fit against me like she’d been built for it.
When I kissed her again, I slowed it down, letting it stretch so we could both feel it for every second we’d spent apart. She sighed into my mouth. The sound was soft, but it wrecked me so bad, I knew I was done for.
Whatever this was, I wasn’t walking away from it and I wasn’t letting her do it either.