#Chapter 43: Letting Myself Go With Him

His face was buried in my hair as he carried me to the couch and gently put me down. He crouched in front of me and carefully lifted my leg with the swollen ankle. His warm hands felt good on the puffy skin. I leaned forward, eager to feel his lips again but he pulled back, a teasing smile on his lips. He picked up the bag of ice from where it dropped on the ground and opened it, pulling a cube out. He popped it in his mouth before tying it shut again and placing it gingerly on my ankle. The cold on my painful leg was enough to distract me for a moment, and when I looked back up he had maneuvered so he was crouched between my legs, a large hand on each side of my hips. "Oh," I said, as he leaned closer, suddenly nervous. He was so strong, so big, like a looming ocean wave that I had naïvely thought I could hurdle. "Still angry, are we?" he said softly, his hand toying with my hair. I nodded, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "Let me cool you off then," he