Loving the Band by Emily Baker Read Free Book Online Page B

said, squinting against the headache that was developing.
    While he was gone, I checked my towel and tightened it round me. Shaq had obviously been a complete gentleman to say he hadn’t seen anything. There was definitely some embarrassing exposure going on. I tried not to think about what I must have looked like. How could I be such a klutz? This was mortifying.
    Shaq was back minutes later with the first-aid kit and a wet flannel. He moved swiftly over to me.
    ‘This might hurt.’ He gently covered my cut with the flannel and held it in place. I winced painfully. ‘Sorry,’ he apologized. ‘Here, you hold it for a second.’
    I moved my hand to take the cloth and watched him as he opened the box and took out a plaster big enough to cover the cut. Despite the pain in my head, it took every ounce of my strength not to stare at his bare arms and chest as he pulled the backing off the plaster. But I wasn’t quick enough and he caught my gaze.
    He stopped for a moment, brushing the hair away from my face. ‘It’s stopped bleeding.’ he whispered.
    I nodded, but then pulled in my breath sharply as he ever so carefully placed the plaster on my forehead. ‘Ouch.’
    It broke the tension and he laughed. ‘I think you’re going to be OK. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital to make sure, though?’
    ‘No, no, I’m fine. I’ll go get changed now.’ I stood up and wobbled a bit as the blood rushed to my head. Shaq caught me round my waist, a worried look in his eyes.
    I blushed at his touch. ‘I’m OK, I promise – head rush.’
    ‘OK, well, I’ll be waiting just here if you need me.’
    It only took a few minutes to get dressed, but I stayed in the bathroom, trying to gather myself before going back out, knowing Shaq was in my bed.
    I took a deep breath and walked in. ‘Hi.’
    ‘Hi, yourself,’ he replied shyly. He was sitting quite stiffly on the side of the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’
    ‘Still a bit wobbly,’ I admitted.
    ‘Hang on, then.’ He came over and helped me into bed, then walked away, and for a moment I thought he was going to leave the room.
    I tried to get up. ‘Ow,’ I cried.
    ‘No, don’t do that,’ he protested, and came round the other side of the bed, getting in next to me and switching off the light.
    We both lay in the darkness looking up at the ceiling, the space between us almost tangible. The only visible light seeped through the curtains. I turned my body to the side so that I could face him. ‘Thank you for looking after me, Shaq.’
    He turned his head towards mine, and looked at me intensely, like he was trying to decide something. Then he rolled over slowly to face me. I could feel his breath tickling my lips as he breathed deeply in and out. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of my hair awayfrom my face.
    ‘Does your head still hurt?’ he asked.
    As I murmured in a small voice, ‘A little,’ he moved his hand from my face to where the plaster was and gently stroked it.
    I was glad it was so dark and Shaq couldn’t see me blush. I sighed.
    ‘Sorry, does that hurt?’
    ‘No, it feels nice.’ I didn’t want him to stop.
    He looked at me intensely, as if he was trying to read my thoughts. I leaned in closer to try to show him.
    Ever so gently Shaq took his hand from my face and leaned forward to kiss me on the forehead where the cut was. When I smiled in response, he started to plant little kisses down my face and along my neck. My pulse was racing with the need for him to keep going.
    I took his hand and held it tightly as his head moved down my body, kissing my arms, pulling up my tank top and kissing my stomach. I tried to bite back a moan, but it was no use. I wanted much more as my hands tangled into his hair.
    I watched him reach the top of my silk shorts and then turned my head to release the breath I realized I’d been holding. But as I did the plaster caught on the pillow and I drew my breath in sharply.
    Worry filled Shaq’s