Sun Catch Her (Book 1: Three Rivers Deep series) COMPLETE

Chapter Nineteen

My pulse raced as I stared at the small dish sitting on top of my drawing pad on the nightstand, obscured by Alex's shadow. It contained the remnants of stitches that had been extracted from my shoulder. His hand went to the smooth, now healed skin, persuading me to relax as the needle's tip grazed my side for round number two. I buried my face in my pillow, blocking out the orange industrial glow of factory lights filtering through the curtains of my bedroom windows. Sweat trickled down my back, but I wasn't hot. "Easy now, Eos." His accented voice sent a ripple of reassurance through me, and I shifted.

A softly spoken word. A murmur of response. A whisper of warm fingers across bruised flesh sent shivers through both of us. The syringe was filled with more restorative. The portion I drank earlier stopped any internal hemorrhaging; however, it would do nothing for already established injuries. These required direct injections.

I gasped as the needle broke through skin and silently braved it as he worked the tip in and out, injections shallow at first to address surface bruising, and then deeper to penetrate closer to the bone. A warm wetness filled the corners of my eyes, but I would not cry. I was too exhausted to cry; I just wanted to be better. Panting, my breathing became pained as the last of the liquid was expelled in one forceful rush.

"It's okay. You're doing well." His arm slipped under the pillow to cradle my head while he set his other hand firmly against my side. His fingers twitched as they made direct contact with my skin. "Just a little maneuvering to make sure everything is in place before the bones set."

"O-okay." I planted my forehead against his stomach, taking in his damp scent.

I let out a whimper when the injected liquid shifted, moving with his will, it seemed, rib bones realigning. My side began to burn, and I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to scream as I endured the fire of instantaneous healing licking red-hot at my nerve endings before cooling to a dull nothing several moments later.

"That's a good girl." Alex removed his hand, pulling down the random T-shirt I'd changed into along with a pair of shorts when we first got back. "You're doing wonderfully. Now rest for a bit."

I bobbed my head without saying anything, accepting his offer of downtime. He rocked us while my trembling dissolved, giving me time to regroup before he tended to my sprained ankle.

Now that he was no longer in healing mode, his purpose for touching me took on a hesitant eagerness, seeking my permission to experiment with how skin-to-skin contact affected us. The gestures were small: a hand against my wrist, a finger under my chin.

When he wanted to run a thumb across my cheek to send shivers through us both, or simply brush the hair from my eyes, I let him. I wasn't even shy with him. In fact, I was truly comfortable with letting him be close. Accepting the attention he wanted to pay me came easily, as effortless as stepping out into the rain, just as I had suspected that first day at the academy.

Things went on like this for a while—repeated touching, that extra frisson of feeling going through the point of contact—until Alex placed both of his hands behind himself, leaning back.

He cleared his throat and finally spoke. "I want to ask you about something that happened at the theater."

"Before or after I somersaulted down the stairs?" I asked unhappily. I shifted on the pillow.

"Before." His mouth quirked with a hint of amusement. At least one of us thought my ungraceful way with steps was funny. "In the lobby, you were going to argue against coming with me, but then the ventilation kicked on, you scented the air, and you changed your mind."

"It did. I did."

Alex continued with what was on his mind, saying that at the time, all he scented from the vented air was car exhaust and fuel emanating from a nearby gas station, neither of which spelled out imminent danger that would cause me to react the way I had.