"They're not deep," Patrick told me as he assessed the palms of my hands.

After Patrick let the boys take over finding out how a shooter got past the front gate, he had led me back to my bathroom to clean me up.

"Come on," he said softly, pulling me from the toilet seat and leading me over to the sink.

I hissed when the cold water hit the tiny cuts.

"Ow, ow, ow!" I growled through my teeth before Patrick finally turned off the tap.

"God, do you want to hurt me or something?" I groaned, taking back my hands and walking over to the towel.

"You know that's not what I want," he told me, though I still needed proof, "Hey."

I turned around at the different tone in his voice before flinching. When did Patrick get that close to me? We were inches apart but not touching at all.

"Just stay still," he told me, reaching his hand to my hairline.

Pinching pain seized my forehead causing me to hiss.

"One, more, second," he groaned, "Got it."

I frowned, holding my forehead and staring at the tiny bit of glass in Patrick's fingers.

"Damn, my whole hair is probably full of that," I scoffed, annoyed.

If I hadn't been so frustrated, this would never have happened. I would never had been in the study and we wouldn't have been shot at.

"Here."

I didn't have time to protest. Patrick already had my hair and had pulled out the band that held the messy bun.

"Hey!" I cried, backing away from him, "We really need to work on your personal space."

He chuckled but before I knew it, he was running his fingers through my hair. I would have protested, at least groaned, but it felt so good to have him massaging my skull.

"See," he whispered, "All gone."

I smiled, a form of a 'thank you' though I couldn't quite get the words out. My mouth dropped when I spied a red stain on Patrick's white dress shirt.

"Patrick, you're bleeding," I cried, grabbing the collar just in time before he stepped out of my reach.

"It's nothing," he groaned.

"You were cut," I snapped.

"Shot actually, well grazed," he corrected himself.

I couldn't believe him. He was truly a Man's man. He seriously dealt with my tiny cuts when he had been shot? What the hell was wrong with him?

"Sit down," I ordered.

The shock on his face was worth it, "Excuse me? You're ordering me now?"

"Got a problem with that? Sit down."

At first, I was surprised that all he did was groan before sitting down on the toilet. Then I felt kind of smug and proud. I just ordered Patrick Maestri.

"Get that smug look off your face, this is a onetime thing," he told me, only making it grow.

Taking the hand towel, I ran it under water. The towel soaked up every little drop, the wetness spreading to the edges.

"Take off your shirt," I ordered, turning off the tap.

Patrick grumbled, like expected, but started to unbutton his shirt.

His eyes didn't reach me, causing me to question. Was Patrick subconscious? He wasn't in the car. I mean, of course the whole atmosphere was different. And the mood and everything else. But what did he have to be worried about. His body was gorgeous - not that I would admit that out loud.

I lowered myself to my knees, trying not to break his eye-connect. He sat up straight and allowed me access to the gash just above his collarbone. He hissed under the touch of the towel, hanging back his head and crawling at his knees. I wouldn't be human if I said that I saw no pleasure in seeing him in pain. It's about time Karma got him.

As I looked at it, I wondered how I couldn't have known about it. I didn't even hear him scream.

"Did it hurt?" I asked him, causing his hard stare to soften.

He shook his head, "I barely noticed."

"How?" I questioned, hissing myself at the sight.

It was deep.

He shrugged, "there was a lot more at stake."

I froze. God, everything Patrick said was from his eyes. His mouth could be saying a complete lie but his eyes would be telling the truth. How did he do that? Under his gaze, my mouth dropped. He couldn't be talking about my safety. He didn't care a thing about me.

"Eliza, I -," his voice stopped, his face in the greatest pain.

And I don't think it was from the gash. My whole body froze when I felt his warm fingers at the back of my neck. Goosebumps rose from my skin at his touch and the slight push they were giving me. My eyes landed on Patrick's and found them staring at my lips. Our faces met. My burning cheeks against his spiky ones. But nothing came. I kept waiting for his lips to touch mine. But they didn't.

Strong arms wrapped around my back bringing me two inches closer. My own hands fell to his chest, the only thing keeping me balance in this...hug?

"Eliza..." he started again, "I have never...felt so...scared," he swallowed, "in my entire life."

I wanted to call him out on his lie. It was clearly a lie. This guy had probably been shot at more than once. When he got his scars I bet he was scared. So I doubt he could have been scared about being shot at tonight.

But it was in his voice. The pain as he spoke about his vulnerability. Even the best lier couldn't pull that off.

"For the first time, I'm beginning to realise that I have something...precious, in my life. Something that can be lost by a single bullet."

I had an urge inside of me to ask, what is it? Because there was no way he meant me. But the way his fingertips caressed my cheeks and played with my hair, told me a different story.

Sitting back, he let go of me and sighed. And just like that, Patrick had built up his walls and I was not allowed in.

"You better get some sleep," he told me, sounding more like himself.

I was frozen to the spot, watching as he tried to make his way out of this awkward situation he had gotten himself into.

His move was brilliant. Walk away and pretend that you were still the ass like always. But he wasn't. For once he wasn't. He actually let his walls down. And in doing so he proved that he could possibly have feelings for me.

What pissed me off was, why the hell didn't he kiss me? Every other guy I knew would have. They would have used the perfect excuse of, life is short, we need to make the most of it before taking me on the bathroom floor. And I would bet a million dollars that I wouldn't be the first woman that Patrick had taken or at least tried to take on the bathroom floor. So why not me?

The question hurt my brain too much for me to the even think about it. I knew what I needed. And that was a long hot shower to wash today away.

When I got out of the shower, I felt ten times better. I felt refreshed, relaxed and - I froze when I was met with a wall of windows looking out to the darkness. Anyone could be out there, waiting for another shot.

Trying not to creep myself out any more, I paced to the windows and pulled the curtains closed.

See, better. If only that was true.

Pacing back to my wardrobe, I found some silky green pj shorts with a matching singlet that had lace along the top. I felt a little bit better now that I didn't just have a towel on but the fear had already began to set in.

The only reason why I wasn't dead tonight was because of Patrick. What would happen if they attacked again?

I had made up my mind before I even realized what I was doing. I had checked three doors and found a bathroom and two bedrooms before I came to a set of double doors with a small glow escaping from underneath it. Taking in a deep breath, I found the courage to open it.

"Patrick," I called, my voice soft.

I froze when I found him sitting up in his king size bed, shirtless and looking at me.

"What's wrong?" He asked me, bringing me back to my mission.

"I-I can't sleep," I stuttered nervously, "not alone anyway."

A small, yet somehow comforting smile appeared on his lips before he patted the space beside him. I sighed in relief before shutting the door behind me. His smug look did not go a miss as I climbed into the huge bed. Lucky for me, there was enough space for the two of us with distance in between.

"You can get that look off your face, this is a onetime thing," I warned him, getting comfortable with my back to him.

I heard him snicker and I would have been regretting my decision if this bed wasn't so damn comfy.

"Okay, Eliza," he whispered in my ear sending shocks to fly all through my body, "what ever you say?"

😘