Page 208 of No Need to Run
“You have a very organized first-aid kit,” he says.
“Of course I do.”
“Why did I know you’d say that?”
“Because you’re getting to know me.”
I see the shift in him. That quick internal retreat. The part of Drew that hears a simple sentence and turns it over, looking for danger.
I tear open an antiseptic wipe.
“Sit,” I tell him, pointing at the toilet.
“You want me to sit there?”
“Yes. The lid’s closed.”
“Feels undignified.”
“Says the man who stumbled into a bush.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it and sits.
Good boy.
I don’t say that out loud.
I step between his knees.
He goes utterly still.
His eyes lift to mine, and for one second, the bathroom feels smaller.
Warmer.
Quieter than it should be with Callie still laughing somewhere down the hall.
I take his chin gently between my fingers and tilt his face toward the light.
His throat works.
“This might sting,” I say.
“I’ve survived worse tonight.”
“Have you?”
“Your sister hit me with a racket.”
“You shouldn’t have broken into my house.”
His face flushes again.
I dab the antiseptic over the scratch on his cheek. He inhales sharply but doesn’t pull away.
“There,” I murmur. “Not so bad.”
His eyes stay on my face.
