He glanced down at the tear on his jacket sleeve where I was looking, like he was only just noticing it himself."It's nothing. Just a small cut."
I narrowed my eyes, not convinced."Take the hood off."
"What, already missed my handsome face, sunshine?"
"You'd die if you dropped the ego for two seconds, wouldn't you?"
Without waiting for a reply, I shoved his hood back. Ignoring the way he looked at me like he was questioning my sanity, I studied his face with open disapproval.
"No wonder you were hiding it. Look at you. A truck would've done less damage."
"Women finding injured men sexier is, in your words, a 'proven fact,' sunshine."
"Sure. Nothing screams sexy like a busted lip and a bruised face. What was I thinking?"
He tried to laugh at my sarcasm, but when the cut at the corner of his mouth pulled, his face twisted in pain. I let out a hopeless sigh and headed toward the bedroom, muttering:
"Take your shoes off and go sit in the living room. I'll grab something to clean this up. And I'd really appreciate it if you tried not to bleed all over my couch."
I had fully expected him to argue, but he obediently did as I said and went to the living room. I watched his back for a second and nodded to myself in satisfaction. Apparently, he did know how to listen sometimes.
When I came back with supplies in my hands, the lack of blood on the floor around him told me he'd taken my warning seriously. I couldn't stop the pleased smile that tugged at my lips. The moment he started to turn toward me, I wiped the smile off and put on a neutral expression.
I sat down on the coffee table right in front of where he was perched on the edge of the couch and set everything beside me.
There was no way I could properly clean the wound through his long sleeve. I got up, grabbed the scissors from the pen holder on my desk, and came back. Ignoring his curious stare, I started cutting his sleeve from the shoulder down without giving any explanation.
"That was my favorite shirt," he complained like a sulky kid.
I kept cutting and muttered in a scolding tone,"Next time, try thinking twice before getting into trouble with dangerous guys while wearing your favorite clothes."
When I finished and set the scissors aside, I checked the wound with some hesitation.
"It doesn't look that deep. I think cleaning and bandaging it should be enough, but considering I'm no expert, you should still see a doctor as soon as you can—just in case."
As I started cleaning the wound, he hissed through clenched teeth at the sting of the antiseptic."You owe me a shirt," he grumbled.
I shot him a glare."If you're trying to make me regret saving you from those guys, keep going. You're on the right track."
He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. I rolled my eyes and focused back on what I was doing.
"I'll give you this—you were pretty clever just now," he said. "Didn't expect you to stay that calm."
"I'm usually not," I admitted. "But when I'm forced into it, I apparently go into autopilot."
When I finished bandaging his arm, I moved on to the cuts on his face. Ignoring the way he watched me so intently was getting harder by the second.
"That girl from the party wasn't my girlfriend," he said suddenly. "Not for a while now, at least. I'm not the type who's into multiple girls at the same time like you think."
The abrupt shift in topic caught me off guard. My hand froze mid-air with the cream. What threw me even more was how accurately he'd hit the mark. I hadn't said any of that out loud—so how the hell did he know what I'd been thinking about him?
I forced my expression to stay neutral."Your drama with your girlfriend isn't my problem, hotshot."
"My ex-girlfriend," he corrected.
I didn't answer. I reached toward the cut by his lip to apply the cream, but before my fingers could touch the wound, he caught my hand.
"I just broke into your apartment with dangerous guys on my tail, and you're really not going to ask what's going on?"
I met his gaze, letting him see the knowing look in my eyes."If I asked, would you actually tell me?"
"So you're not as naive as you look," he said with a crooked smile.
It wasn't so much the words as the way he looked at me that made me feel strange. Judging by how fast my heart was beating, being this close to him was doing my cardiovascular system zero favors.
Hoping he wouldn't notice how affected I was, I pulled my hand free and cleared my throat.
"I don't know what your problem is," I said, "but if you need a place to stay, you can crash here for the night."
I took his silence as a yes. Once I'd finished what I was doing, I stood up."Come on. Follow me."
We went from the living room to the bedroom. The moment we stepped inside, his eyes landed on the bed, and that sly smile made a comeback.
"So you're planning to get me into your bed on the first night. I'd hate to disappoint you, but in this state, I don't think I'd be very functional, gorgeous."
"Haven't you been beaten enough for one day?" I cut him off before he could continue and spoke slowly, like I was explaining something to a child."You are sleeping here. I'm sleeping on the couch."
His smile vanished instantly."You don't actually expect me to accept that, do you? You sleep in your bed. I'll take the couch."
I crossed my arms and stood my ground."I don't recall offering you a choice. Whether I like it or not, you're my guest right now—and you're hurt. You need to sleep comfortably, and my couch is not exactly built for your size."
He opened his mouth to argue again, but I held up a hand."You can keep fighting it and tire yourself out all you want, but I'm not changing my mind. And I hate to crush your dreams, but I can't sleep with someone else in the same bed."
That last bit seemed to cheer him up again."Then you're lucky you've got someone like me right in front of you who could help you work on that."
"I don't even get the satisfaction of beating you up myself, yet I'm still the one stuck dealing with your maddening attitude after other people do it. You're destroying my faith in justice, hotshot."
His arrogant smirk spread back across his face."I knew you were crazy about me."
I had to physically stop myself from stomping my foot like a child as I tugged at my hair. Instead, I marched off to the kitchen, filled a large glass with water, grabbed a painkiller from the cabinet, and returned to my very unwanted guest.
I set them on the nightstand beside the bed."If it hurts during the night, take it. If you wake up before I do, there's food in the fridge and coffee in the upper cabinet. Not that I think you'll be shy about helping yourself, but still—now you know."
When he nodded, I turned toward the bed and picked up one of the pillows. I was just about to leave the room when he said:
"We're even after tonight."
I looked back at him."That was supposed to be a thank you, I'm guessing," I said dryly.
When he gave me that crooked little smile, I sighed.
"You're welcome, hotshot. Good night."
"Good night, sunshine."