The Thief Who Stole My Heart (Boyxboy)

Stitches

   Of all the dumb choices I've made in my life, inviting a wanted criminal into my home was probably at top of the list; right up there with asking Gwen to wax my legs for the school swim team tryouts. In my defense, I made the team and we crushed it at state championships that year. The bottom half of Hale's shirt was soaked with blood by the time we made it up to my apartment. His jacket was probably ruined as well.

    "Ah man." he pouted while I locked up behind us. "This was my favorite jacket."

    "Sorry." I muttered, suddenly feeling guilty.

    "No worries. It died for a good cause." he smiled. "Plus, I've got more."

    My checks felt warm as I directed him to the couch. "Just stay here. I'll be right back."

    "Oh Elliot, I like it when you take charge," he teased but was unable to hide the pain in his voice. I rolled my eyes and quickly gathered everything I would need to stitch him up. By the time I made it back to the living room, Hale had removed his jacket and was holding it awkwardly in front of himself. He gave me a sheepish smile, "Is there some place I can put this? I don't want to ruin your carpet."   

    "Yeah, just a second." I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a trash bag from under the sink. I held it out to him as I came back into the room. "Here. Just put it in that."   

    "Thanks." He discarded the jacket with a frown. I laid an old towel out on the couch and spread out my supplies on the coffee table.

   
    "Okay, take your shirt off and lay down on the couch." I told him, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.

    "Whoa there. Buy me dinner first. I am a classy lady after all," he smirked. "Was this all part of your plan? Get me alone and take advantage of me in my injured state?"

    "Hale, I swear to God-"

    "Alright. Alright. I'm doing it." he sighed, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "Honestly, Elliot, you need to learn to laugh every now and then."
   

    "I'll laugh when you say something funny." I shot back. Hale's laugh was full and genuine and it made my heart feel suddenly lighter. I watched as he struggled to pull his shirt over his head without hissing in pain. I stepped forward and grabbed the fabric. "Here. Let me help."

    "Thanks." he huffed once he was free of the shirt. I was suddenly aware of how close we were and how ripped he was. His chest and shoulders were broad and his torso was perfectly toned. His  chiseled abbs and bulging biceps made it painfully obvious that he spent a lot of time at the gym. My mouth became dry as Hale whispered, "See something you like?"

    I quickly composed myself, hoping his didn't hear the way my voice cracked when I said, "Nope."
   

    "You sure?"

    "Yep." I sat on the corner of the coffee table and gestured to the couch. "Please sit down. I'd like get this over with."
   

    Hale did as I asked without any further quips, leaning back so I could get to the wound. "So, do you just keep a med kit in your apartment just in case you need to stitch up a fugitive?"

    "No. A lot of people in this apartment building can't always afford to take their pets to a vet so they'll bring them to me and I fix them up the best I can." I explained.

    "How much do they pay you?"

    "Nothing. I don't charge them."

    "So you just help them and expect nothing in return?" he asked, looking slightly surprised.