He sighs, shaking his head like I’m a stubborn child. “You’re unbelievable.” Then, without another word, he bends down, scoops me up in his arms like I weigh nothing, and starts skating toward the exit.
“Leo!” I shriek, wriggling against his chest. “Put me down! I’m not a damsel in distress.”
“That’s because you’d rather die than admit you need help,” he mutters, carrying me off the ice. “You’re bleeding all over the place and still trying to argue with me.”
I grin. “That’s because I like to argue with you.”
He lifts an eyebrow as he sets me on the bench. “Is that your excuse?” He puts on his skate guards before scooping me up again.
“I can walk, you know,” I tell him.
“Yeah, but you won’t stop skating. And this is the only way I can get you to cooperate.” He pushes open the door to the athletic training room and sets me gently on a table before pulling a first aid kit from the cabinet. “Now that we’re here, sit tight, Grandma.”
I glare at him. “Call me that again, and I’ll trip you for real next time.”
He smirks, but doesn’t respond. Instead, he grabs a washcloth and a bandage. “Give me your hand.”
“I’ll do it,” I say, reaching for the bandage, but he hides it behind his back.
“No you won’t. Now give me your hand, Vic.” There’s no room for argument in his voice.
I sigh, then reluctantly hold it out. He turns my hand over and examines the cut, then wets the cloth and dabs at my palm. I wince, but he won’t let me pull away, like he’s determined to fix me up because he knows I won’t take care of myself otherwise.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, his eyes cutting to mine before he looks back at my wound.
“Only when you touch it,” I mutter, watching as he carefully cleans the wound.
“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got a magic cure for that,” he says, putting the bandage on next.
I snort. “What, are you going to give it a kiss?”
“Exactly,” he says. Then he leans down and presses his lips to the bandage.
My heart stutters in my chest.
His eyes flick to mine. “All better now.”
I gape at him. “Are you serious?”
He straightens up, grinning. “What? You’ve never heard of the kiss-it-and-make-it-better method? Works every time with the kindergarteners at school.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the corner of my mouth from curving into a half-smile. Honestly, I’d pay good money to see Leo read to a bunch of adorable kids, but I also know my heart might not recover from it. “It might work for them, but I’m not five.”
“Nope, it still works,” he says, giving my hand a gentle pat. “There. Good as new.”
His hand lingers on mine for a second too long, and when I glance up, his blue eyes are locked on mine. For a moment, my smile fades and my eyes drop to his lips. Suddenly, I wish the kiss he gave me wasn’t on my wrist.
He notices me staring, and his mouth quirks just a little.
My gaze falls to the floor as my cheeks flare with heat.
Shoot. He wasn’t supposed to see that.
“Thank you,” I say, swallowing my embarrassment.
“Anytime,” he replies softly, his thumb brushing against my knuckles before he lets go.
I clear my throat, breaking the spell. “Alright, Dr. Anderson. Can we get back to practice now so we can try the turn again?”
