She sat silent.
“Katie?” Adam knelt down in front of her again and took her hands in his.
“Just – just take care of the cut, Adam. Please?”
He stared at her face, and was amazed at the wave of worry and tenderness that came over him.
“OK. I’ll be careful.”
He turned his attention to the gash on her lower leg and when he saw that it was long but not especially deep, he almost sighed in relief. He’d been prepared to inject the lidocaine as a local anaesthetic and stitch her up if he had to. After twelve years of pro boxing, Adam knew more than he cared to admit about quick patch jobs: he’d done dozens on himself and on friends. He knew he could do a good job, but now he wasn’t so sure how she’d have reacted. She may well have refused to let him drug her, even locally.
“It’s OK, Katie
