Concern riddles his brow. “Do you need to lie down?”

“If you want me in your bedroom, all you have to do is ask.” I clamp my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God,” I mutter, cringing inside. What the heck is wrong with me? “I didn’t mean . . .” I didn’t know it was possible for him to be even more handsome, but he proves me wrong when he grins with pride. “Please ignore whatever comes out of my mouth.”

“It’s hard to ignore your mouth.”

I practically collapse right here on what looks like an expensive countertop of cold stone. “I seriously can’t be responsible for my words or actions—”

“I need to keep an eye on your actions as well as your mouth?” He glances at my chin again before his gaze slides to my eyes. “This is going to be fun.”

I want to die inside. Did I list my dad or Amanda as my emergency contact? I know I listed them both, but I hope Amanda is under the “In case a cute guy makes you swoon” emergency button on my phone. If she saw Harbor, she’d understand. I’m about to jump off this counter and make a run for it, probably head down that long driveway and right back to Beacon because nothing is going to save me now. There’s only one problem. “I should probably get back to work.”

“Let’s get you fixed up first. I’m pretty sure you bleeding isn’t a part of the entertainment tonight.”

“I think that’s a solid assumption.” Treating me like a patient, he’s careful as he cleans and then bandages my cut. “You’re all good.”

I touch the bandage and then twist to look in the mirror. If I were to go off how well he treated me, and by how long it took, I would have thought a hospital visit was in my future. But I have the smallest little skin-toned bandage on my chin. It makes me laugh. As soon as I turn back, I can still feel the heat of embarrassment from what I said, so I face it head-on. “Can we just blame the injury for my behavior?”

“Sounds reasonable.”

Enjoying this little reprieve in my shift, I don’t regret the wound one bit after he takes care of me. “You have amazing bedside manners. Have you considered becoming a doctor?”

Bending forward, he grins, small dimples forming on each cheek. “A time or two.” Standing up, he rubs his hands together. “You’re good to go, but—”

“But?”

“Are you going to finally tell me your name?”

“Oh right. That.” This time, I’m the one grinning. “Ow. Smiling hurts.” My fingers are quick to cover the bandage. The pain is bearable, but I sure do like his attention.

I hate to even admit it, but he makes me feel special.

“It’s going to take a few days to heal,” he says, covering my fingers with his, the gesture so caring that it causes my heart to beat faster. “Do you want to take off your shirt?”