Page 91 of Embrace

“Answer me,” he demands.

I try to move away, but he doesn’t let me. I exhale a dramatic sigh. “Why else would you do it then?”

“There isn’t a single thing about your past that’s shameful. I get that you want to fix your reputation and not be seen as the girl from sophomore year, but even if you were, that’s okay. She was a person, too, and I won’t let you be mean to her.”

I blink in surprise.

“As for Patel, I hit him because nobody disrespects my friends like that. I hit him because that’s a disgusting thing to say about a woman. I hit him because he was talking aboutyou.”

I just stare at his reddened fist. His gaze doesn’t leave me.

Kian sighs. “Kilner’s going to kill me.”

That does nothing to ease the knot in my stomach. “Just tell him you were saving a damsel in distress.”

“You know that’s not why I did it, right?”

“I know, I know. You couldn’t just stand there as some guy talked about my pu—”

“Please don’t repeat it. I’m just going to get pissed off again. And my adrenaline is still going right now.”

“Oh, come on! It was kind of funny.”

“It wasn’t.” He gives me a serious look. “Who told you you have to laugh when someone is being an asshole to you?”

The question lands on target. “It’s easier that way.”

Laugh it off.That’s what I always told myself when guys talked about my body.

“No, it’s not. Call them out. Yell at them. Fucking call me.” He’s getting worked up again, so I grab his shoulders.

“Calm down, Muhammad Ali. I’m fine. They’re just words.”

He shakes his head, but he lets me get away with that. “You sure you’re not mad at me?”

I check his bruised hand again. “I wouldn’t be playing nurse if I was mad at you. You’re impossible to be mad at.”

He grins. “Because I’m so charming?”

I shove him away only for him to lose balance, forcing me to lunge forward to pull him back to me. When he starts to laugh, I realize he tricked me.

I glare at him, but he only leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I think you’re my best friend, Scarlett.”

I swallow. “Right, I’ll just get in the long, long line of all your best friends. I’m sure you’ll get to me in a few years.”

“No.” He shakes his head seriously. “You’re it. There is no line.”

I raise a brow.

“I’m serious,” he insists. “I have a lot of best friends, I know. And I would do absolutely anything for every single one of them, but you’re different. You’re…you. My Scarlett.”

Those words stamp themselves into my chest, onto each of my ribs and all of my arteries.

Something hot sears through my chest, so I grab his hand as a distraction. “You’re hurt.”

I move to get the towel from where he left it on the nightstand.I gesture to his bed, and he goes without a word. I find the first aid kit in his bathroom.

On his bed, his fingers flex under my touch, and the tension in his forearm feels like a live current beneath my palm. My thumb skims along the ridge of his wrist, tracing the veins. His legs brush mine, his face right at the neckline of my tank top, where he’s got a clear view of my cleavage. I don’t move.