Read Listed: Volume II for Free Online Page A

and needed another.”
    She
turned around to face him again, determined not to act like a trembling virgin
just because Paul appeared without a shirt. He would probably be appalled if he
knew the direction of her thoughts.
    She
saw him draw his eyebrows together. “Are you okay? Do you have a—”
    “I
don’t have a fever,” she snarled, “I’m just thirsty. Stop fussing.”
    Paul
blinked at her tone.
    “Sorry,”
she said, tempering her voice and feeling like an ungrateful ass. “I’m really
fine. Sorry I woke you.”
    He
gave a half-shrug and walked over to the refrigerator himself, evidently
deciding he wanted water too since he was up and they were talking about it.
    Emily
couldn’t help but check out his bare back, since she was offered the view. The
strong lines of his shoulders and the planes of his back were graceful and
powerful—nothing over-developed or ungainly about him. But Emily was
immediately distracted by something else.
    She
gasped loudly and stepped toward him. “God, Paul, what happened?”
    “What—”
he began, glancing at her over his shoulder. Then he must have realized what
had diverted her.
    He
stiffened. “It’s nothing.” He tried to turn around, but he was trapped by the
open refrigerator door and by Emily, who had moved in closer.
    “ Nothing ?”
she repeated, overwhelmed by horror and outrage at the sight of the network of ragged
scars all over Paul’s lean back. The lines were white, so they must have been
old. The idea of his being hurt so badly made her sick. “This is horrible,
Paul! Who did this to you?”
    “Emily,
I said it was—” Paul began, sounding awkward and uncomfortable.
    As
he spoke, without any conscious volition, Emily’s hand reached out, and her
fingers traced one of the longest scar lines, just at his shoulder blade.
    As
soon as she touched him, Paul broke off his words and jerked away, his sudden
motion causing the bottles in the refrigerator door to clatter. “It’s no big
deal,” he gritted out, pushing her backward slightly so he could close the
door. “Don’t be melodramatic.”
    “Melodramatic?”
she repeated in astonishment. Her heart throbbed and her vision almost blurred
as she tried to process his being hurt so badly. This was so much different
than the faint bruises he’d noticed on her arm a week ago. “Paul, please, what
happened?”
    Paul’s
tight face softened slightly, but he stood with his back against the counter, evidently
so she couldn’t see the scars. “It’s really not as bad as it looks. Several
years ago, I…I fell.”
    Her
mouth dropped open. “Fell on what?”
    “Against
the doors of a china cabinet.” He swallowed, not meeting her eyes. “The glass
panes shattered.”
    Emily
covered her mouth with her hand, the visual his words had evoked appalling.
“How did you fall?”
    Someone
wouldn’t accidentally fall backward into a china cabinet.
    When
he didn’t answer, she asked, “Did he…did he push you?”
    “He
didn’t mean to. We were arguing, and I got in his face. He never hit me or
anything.”
    Her
heart almost broke at the sight of his stiff, guarded face.
    Emily
had lost her father, but he had loved her.
    Poor
Paul hadn’t been so lucky.
    She
couldn’t believe she’d thought his life was easy—just a few weeks ago.
    “It’s
not as bad as it looks,” Paul said again, his eyes darting over to check her
expression. “All the cuts were fairly superficial.”
    “Superficial?”
she breathed, stepping over to the counter and nudging him away so she could
see again.
    The
scars crisscrossed his whole back, some thicker than others, and she’d never
known his back was torn up this way.
    “Do
they hurt?” she asked softly, tracing the line of one of them gently with her
fingers, even though he’d pulled away from her before. It was a stupid
question, but her heart ached for him. Something tender and protective rose up
inside her, stronger than anything she’d experienced