She instantly put her hands to her backside. No way was she going to be sitting. Maybe not ever again.

He stared at her, clearly trying to decide whether to force her or not. And maybe also worried she’d start crying again. She was tempted.

Instead of waiting for him to figure it all out, she brushed past him, nose high. “I’m busy.”

“Yeah, busy healing. Now if you won’t sit, then lie down.” He dropped his bag on the bed.

She decided to put up with his annoying boorish behavior, because she figured he had Band-Aids in his bag and she didn’t have any.

So she very carefully sat on the bed, sucked in a breath at the pressure on her sore butt, and came to the conclusion that he was right. Lying down seemed like the way to go. She lay back.

Without another word, Aidan perched a hip on the bed and went to work, doctoring up both knees first.

She hissed out a breath when he sprayed antiseptic over the abraded skin. “Hurts.”

He lifted his head and met her gaze. “You fell down the stairs without a peep, but this hurts?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“How about the baby bunny?” he asked. “You want to talk about that?”

She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s talk about why you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” she said. Lied. But there was no way she’d explain that the anger was really self-directed and came from wanting him again. And not just a silly crush want, either, but much, much more. She couldn’t have that conversation because the wanting was mutual, she knew that much. Just as she knew it couldn’t go anywhere. Aidan and his lifestyle—putting his neck out on the mountain daily—would kill her.

He shook his head, but he bent over and kissed the Band-Aids over her knees, one after the other.

She didn’t say a word, couldn’t because the breath had backed up in her throat again. How the hell was she supposed to hold on to her mad if he was going to be sweet?

Then he went to work on her palms. After he finished the first one he brought it up to his mouth and gently pressed his lips to the bandage there, too, and damn if she didn’t feel all her defenses crumbling down. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice annoyingly breathless.

“Kissing it and making it better.” A wicked light came into his eyes and she began to realize that “sweet” might be the wrong adjective, and when he spoke, she knew it for sure.

“Now turn over,” he said.

Chapter 19

Aidan watched Lily sputter with indignation and anger, and both looked good on her. A damn sight better than the misery and pain of a few minutes before.