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—Simone—
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A deep crease formed between Banks’s eyebrows as he studied my inner arm. Or more specifically, the newest blade tracks I’d inflicted. They were hot and weren’t settling like usual.
He carefully took my wrist, turning it this way and that as he scrutinized my skin. “Are they sore? They’re looking quite red, babe.”
“Yeah, they’re a little sore. I, uh... I went a little deeper than I normally do. And usually an antiseptic cream settles them, but it hasn’t for these.”
Banks pursed his lips, still frowning, and cut his eyes to mine. “Up you get. I’mma clean these properly. I think they might also need to be glued.”
“Glued!”
“Yeah,” he stated calmly. “It’s instead of stitches and holds the skin together so it can knit properly. Especially good for slices since they don’t have a jagged edge. A torn edge is better at self-knitting.”
Shame prickled as I reluctantly eased off his body. “I’d hate to need stitches.”
He hummed. “They have a time and place. You know, Simone... While I don’t condone self-harm, you must keep your instrument clean. It’s imperative. Cuts and abrasions can turn nasty without warning and can lead to blood poisoning or sepsis. Once—”
“Banks!” I cut off the medical lecture. My emotions teetered on eggshells, and I felt tears threatening. “Can you help me, please?”
His expression softened. “I’m sorry for ranting, babe. It happens when I’m worried.”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I halfheartedly protested as I came to sit on the barstool at the kitchen island.
Banks paused mid-stretch where he reached for a medical kit above the fridge and scoffed over his shoulder.
“You’ve given me nothing but things to worry about, new girl. Between the indecent exposure, jail time, getting lost, the marks on your arms, and me loving the fuck out of you, worrying about you is a full-time job.” He smirked as he set the medical kit on the counter and popped the lid. “Now, give me that arm of yours, sweetheart.”
I laid my arm on the counter and intently watched him prep the medical supplies he needed. The thought that I once tried to hide my battle scars from him, and now I’m willingly and unashamedly exposing them, had me smiling to myself.
“Proud of yourself, huh?” he drawled.
“Yeah, I am actually.”
Banks’s sharp hazel eyes flicked up to mine. “Care to elaborate?”
“I’m proud that I don’t have to hide my inner self from you, and that I can ask for help when I otherwise wouldn’t.”
“They’re both excellent accomplishments to be proud of, babe. You had me working for your trust, though.”
I burst out a short laugh. “You wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Banks grinned while mixing up an antiseptic bath. “I never have. Whenever I get told no, I make it my personal mission to find a way around, through, or over.” His grin turned devilish. “I’ve just never had to do it for a girl before.”
I rolled my eyes. “I should have made you work harder. I caved far too fast in my opinion.”
His chuckle came low and leisurely. “Babe, I had you at that first kiss.”
“You stole that kiss.” My free hand met my waist. “It wasn’t consented so doesn’t count.”
Banks’s laugh came again, then faded as he dried off his hands. He tossed the hand towel aside, then rounded the counter with the antiseptic solution. I stared up at him when he set the bowl down and nudged open my knees.
“Guess I need to put that right then, eh?”
“How?” I whispered, feeling my pulse skip and my breath grow short.
He leaned into my space, lips all but a hair’s breadth from mine, and whispered, “Can I have another first kiss, new girl?”
I smirked. “Depends on if you’re going to carjack me again.”
His impatient growl reverberated across my sensitive mouth. “Don’t tease, sweetheart.”
A sultry smile tipped my lips. Banks took my face between his warm palms, and on a deep inhale, claimed my mouth with his.
He breathed me in, smoothed his hands down my neck, and stroked my jaw with his thumbs. Lips splicing against mine, Banks worshiped our connection, then gently grazed his tongue along mine, savoring me like the finest wine.
My body melted. Heart forgot how to beat. Every hint of self-loathing and second-guessing vanished, leaving me clear-headed and sinking into his hold. Anchored to his solid chest and languid in his touch, I lost myself within our gravity.
Hands roamed and tongues explored, then Banks’s lips smoothed against mine one last time before he drew the blissful kiss to a close.
“It would have been just like that,” he murmured huskily against my mouth.
I smiled while catching my breath. “I would’ve left town if you’d kissed me like that.”
A frown immediately appeared, angling his eyebrows down. “Why?”
“Because kisses like that make people fall in love. And I didn’t want to fall in love again. Not then.”
Banks looked at me from under his eyelashes. “But now?”
Heart racing, I ran my hand down his bicep. “Now I’ve found someone who taught me how to love again, who’s shown me it’s okay to be loved by another, and who’s opened my eyes to the fact that we really don’t get to choose who we fall for. The heart chooses.”
His smile widened into an all-out grin. “In our case, our hearts literally did. I love you, baby.”
My throat grew tight. I hadn’t reciprocated those words yet. Banks kissed me again, unfazed and understanding that those three little words were anything but simple for me.
When another blissful graze of his lips passing across mine came to an end, I pressed my cheek to his, closed my eyes, and took the last giant leap of faith.
“I love you too.”
