“Oh my god, you fucking idiot! Are you okay? Did you hurt anything? Oh Jesus, fuck, shit, fuck, do we need to go to the emergency room?” she asks, one question after another as her hands roam over me, inspecting every inch of my body. Almost every inch, that is.

As her hand moves over my chest, I grasp her wrist. “I’m fine, Charlie. My pride hurts more than anything, and I might be a little sorer than usual tomorrow, but I’m okay, I promise.”

She sits up, but her legs are still straddling my waist as she looks down on me. I can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks, even with the pinched pissed-off expression she’s giving me right now. Her dark brown hair is still in the long braid she had earlier, but strands have come loose and are framing her face. I want nothing more than to pull out the tie holding it in place so I can watch it fall down her shoulders and onto her sweet tits. The same ones that are directly in front of my face, swelling with every breath that she takes, and my cock twitches at the memory of them pressed up against me. Jesus, I have no idea what the hell is wrong with me, but I want this woman more than I’ve wanted anyone in the longest fucking time. I know I can’t—I shouldn’t—go there. Hell, with the way my dick is having massive bipolar disorder right now, I know I definitely can’t go there right now, no matter how hot she is and how badly I want to make a move.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she whispers, the chocolate morsels in her eyes shimmering as she looks down on me, a curly tendril falling out of her braid and onto her face.

Without thinking, I reach my hand up and brush the hair behind her ear. Fuck. I don’t know if it’s this girl or the fact that I haven’t felt a woman’s warmth against my skin, but she’s driving me crazy. Our gazes are locked, and if it weren’t for this damned brace, I’d be leaning up to kiss her lips right now. I apparently lose my mind, using my right arm to pull her down to me since I can’t lean up towards her. My hand grips the back of her head and I lead her in the direction of my mouth. She’s centimeters away from my face when she suddenly jerks out of my embrace and pushes herself off of me.

Standing up, she gives me a dirty look. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you seriously think I’m some swooning girl that wants nothing more than to be in your bed?!” She starts scrambling on the driveway, gathering up the groceries and trying to get them back into their bags. She’s muttering to herself, and I swear I hear terms such as “pigheaded,” “assface,” and “insufferable jerk.”

What the hell? I know she was looking down at me, just waiting to be kissed. I could see it in her eyes. Where the fuck did I get my wires crossed? Shit, maybe my brain did get a little scrambled when I hit the concrete, because I’ve never—not even with Megan—acted so erratically with a chick, and it’s beginning to piss me off.

I have to roll onto my stomach and get up on my knees, where I brace myself against the car in order to stand. “Umm, a little help here?” I ask, causing Charlie to gape at me.

She places her hands on her hips and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Help? Hmm, five minutes ago you seemed to think you were just fine all on your own. I’d hate to hurt your pride, Rugged Man. I’m sure you can figure it out all on your own.” With that, she gathers up the bags and heads inside, leaving me to wonder, Who the hell is Rugged Man?

WHEN I finally get on my feet and make my way inside, Charlie’s busy in the kitchen putting away the groceries. I head straight to the freezer and grab an ice pack out of it because my ass is killing me. Sitting down at the kitchen island, I place the pack under my ass. She notices and smirks at me.

“That’s what you get for being a jackass, jackass.”

“Hey, I’m an injured guy. Have some sympathy,” I say, giving her my biggest puppy-dog eyes. I know the ladies can’t resist the sea green color of my eyes, but Charlie takes one look at me and rolls her own.

“It’s your own damn fault. You’re like every other stubborn-ass man out there. You think you’re invincible and too prideful to accept a helping hand. Newsflash: You can’t do it all on your own, and whether you like it or not, I’m here to help you. So get used to it.”

Now I’m starting to get pissed off. This girl doesn’t know a damn thing about me. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I know more than anyone that I’m not fucking invincible. I think I’m bearing the scars, dealing with the wounds of that. For your information, I got fucking blown up by a goddamn bomb. My best friend damn near lost his leg and three other guys also suffered injuries. Did you not hear Cohen this morning? I was in a coma. I could’ve died any second that I’d lain in that hospital room. So, no, Charlie, I don’t think I’m invincible, and until you’re in my shoes, you have no room to judge me.”

Charlie stops what she’s doing and walks towards me until she’s standing directly across from me on the other side of the island. She places both of her hands on the counter, and her eyes bore into mine. “You’re right, Knox. I’ve never been in your shoes, and I never will be. I don’t expect to know what you went through, and I can’t even begin to understand how you’re feeling. How it felt waking up in the hospital, seeing Jace in his cast, or even reliving the bomb blast over and over again since it happened. You’re right. I’ll never experience that, and I’m sorry as hell that you did. But I did grow up with a father who came home every night after treating injured soldiers. Without him having to say anything, I knew when he lost someone on the table. I’ve been an Army brat my entire life. I’ve said goodbye to friends at the airport and had them come home by way of Dover in a flag-draped casket. Loss doesn’t just happen for you guys. It happens for the rest of us, too. Maybe not on the same level, but it still hurts like hell. So don’t you dare tell me I don’t understand that you aren’t invincible, because if any civilian can understand that, it’s me.”

I’m a loss for words, because for one, I’m not used to a girl holding her own with me, and this woman has done nothing but go toe-to-toe with me. And two, I had no idea her dad was in the Army. I swear, I stick my foot in my mouth more times than I’d like to count with this girl and the reminder of her earlier suggestion comes to mind, but my foot is going nowhere near my ass. Shuddering, the memory of that sorority girl sticking her finger in that place makes me cringe. Sure, I know some guys are cool with that and they like it, but I swear my cock deflated the moment she touched me there. Never fucking again.

“Look, Knox, we’re clearly incompatible. We’ve done nothing but piss each other off today—although I’ve certainly done nothing wrong. My very presence seems to irritate you at times. I’m going to make you some dinner and then get out of your hair for the night. Let’s just agree to be civil towards each other and this whole thing should work out just fine.”

Intersecting my fingers, I lean my elbows on the granite countertop. I actually disagree with her. I think we’re more alike than either of us realizes, and it’s causing us to butt heads. Deciding to wave the white flag on this one, I look directly at her as I respond.

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I jumped to conclusions and I was out of bounds. I shouldn’t have said the things that I did.” Fuck me, this is the goddamn second time I’ve apologized to her in a single day and I don’t know why. I’m usually fine with pissing my women off. Not that she’s my woman. It’s just that for some reason I don’t like the thought of her staying pissed at me.

She watches me carefully as if she’s assessing the sincerity in my words, but then her brow furrows again and I want to groan. “No, Knox, you shouldn’t have. But even more than that, you shouldn’t have been snooping through my phone.”