Chapter 362
362:
“This might hurt a bit,” Christina murmured, her voice steady and low.
“Okay.”
Dylan watched her, his eyes lingering on her lowered lashes, captivated by how focused she was. In that moment, something about her felt different—more magnetic.
As Christina concentrated on cleaning the wound, she didn’t realize how intently he was watching her. The memory of that accidental contact in the car resurfaced, and she found herself oddly grateful he hadn’t kicked her out then and there.
But in that brief moment of distraction, her fingers brushed against his bare chest…
A flash of panic shot through Christina as she jerked her hand away, instinct taking over. At the same time, Dylan, who had just extended his hand—itching to grasp hers—froze mid-motion. His fingers twitched slightly, caught between disappointment and relief. If he hadn’t stopped himself in time, he might have startled her.
“That was an accident. Didn’t mean to do that,” Christina said, glancing at Dylan and trying to sound casual. A silent worry lingered. Would he throw her out over this? Sure, those guards outside wouldn’t stand a chance against her, but being tossed out by Dylan would still be humiliating.
Dylan’s calm voice offered quiet reassurance.
“It’s alright.”
A brief pause of uncertainty passed before Christina asked,
“Should I keep going?”
“Please do. And sorry for the trouble,” Dylan replied, polite as ever, though his expression remained unreadable.
He exhaled quietly as he watched her hands move more cautiously now. Maybe she was still rattled by how he’d kicked out the nurse earlier. That might explain her extra carefulness. His lips parted several times, ready to say something—anything—to explain himself. But every attempt died before he could speak.
A worry gnawed at him: what if she figured out how he felt and rejected him completely? What if she distanced herself? If that happened, they’d never return to how things were. He had never felt this hesitant before. He wanted nothing more than to close the space between them, but the fear of pushing her away held him back.
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“You’re all set.”
Christina smiled, her grin lighting up the room.
“You can button up now.”
“Thanks.”
Dylan nodded quietly and began buttoning his shirt, each movement calm and deliberate. His long, well-defined hands were a sight to behold. Something about the way he moved pulled at Christina’s attention—each gesture sending a subtle ripple through her chest.
She found herself staring, momentarily lost in the moment—until Dylan’s gaze lifted and met hers.
A jolt shot through her. It was like the moment snapped into perfect clarity.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and her skin practically sizzled. With a nervous laugh, she blurted,
“I should, uh, go wash some fruits. Be right back!”
.
.
.