Page 74 of Damaged Protector
“Sign me up,” she said, swiveling on her butt and dropping her legs off the side of the bed. Her arms stretched over her head, and she yawned, leaving me with the alluring view of her arched back.
Bet I could make it arch for a completely different reason.
Before I could dwell on the logistics of that, she dropped her feet to the floor and smoothed down her short flirty dress, which was wrinkled from sleep. Her braids had started coming undone, and rogue pieces of hair were sticking out everywhere. It was unexpectedly adorable.
“I’m going to get some eye drops from my room. Your eyes are still a little red,” she informed me on the way out the door.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, though my lids felt swollen and my corneas stung a little from the aftereffects of the pepper spray.
She ignored me, of course, and I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes until she returned a few minutes later. “Open up,” she ordered me, and I did, allowing her to put a drop in each eye.
“What is that?”
“Just lubricating drops. I use it when my eyes get dry. Close, please.”
Again, I did as she asked and felt something cool and soothing against my lids. When my hand reached up to see what she’d laid there, she smacked it. “Be still. I put some cucumber slices on there. It will help with the swelling.”
“I don’t need—” I began to protest, but she playfully ruffled my hair and interrupted me.
“Think of it like your own personal spa day, Tater Tot. I’m going to do some yoga. Be a good boy and leave those on for ten minutes.”
“Stop calling me Tater Tot,” I grumped, but all I heard was her sweet laughter as she left the room.
I waited for what I estimated to be ten minutes before removing the cucumber slices, and I had to admit that my eyes felt better.
After going through my morning routine in the bathroom, I found Mallori in the workout room, her legs folded over one another and her fingers pressed against her ears. She was humming a low, buzzing sound, and I watched from the doorway, fascinated, until she finally opened her eyes.
“Hey,” she said, looking relaxed and happy in dark-purple yoga shorts and a matching sports bra.
“You trying to become a bee for real?” I asked, entering the room with an amused grin on my face.
“It’s a type of meditation called Bhramari Pranayama,” she explained. “It’s a breathing technique that simulates the buzzing of the black Indian bee. Very relaxing.”
Sitting cross-legged in front of her—though my legs weren’t nearly as flexible as hers—I asked, “Do you do that often? Meditate?”
“Only when I need to.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “We talked about a lot of stuff last night. Stuff I haven’t talked about in months, except with Merrit. I wanted to clear it all out of my mind.”
I felt instantly guilty. “I’m sorry I triggered those memories for you, Bee.”
She shook her head, braids swinging around her shoulders. She’d re-braided them into neat plaits. “Totally my fault. I invaded your personal space, though maybe next time you could close the door.” Her teasing tone made me smile.
“Noted. I didn’t expect you home so soon. Did something happen?”
Mal rolled her eyes. “Scotty P. thought it would be a good idea to turn our friends night into a romantic double date at a fancy restaurant. He’s such a tool.”
Sleazy little fuck. “Want me to have a chat with him?”
“Would your chat include bitch slapping him?”
I laughed heartily. “I could make that happen if it’s what you want.”
“Hmm, I’ll let you know.” Her eyes dropped to my shoulders. “You’re carrying a lot of tension. Want to try the Bhramari Pranayama technique?”
I shook my head. “You’re the bee, not me.”
“That’s right. You’re the resident bear.” Then she tapped her lips thoughtfully and said, “Actually, let’s try that. It’s all about the vibration of the vocal cords, so just growl like a bear in the back of your throat.”
“Is this an academy approved technique?” I asked with a lift of one eyebrow.