Eden’s mind had blanked when she’d looked into Holden’s dark eyes. He wasn’t glaring, so they weren’t black, and he wasn’t about to kiss her, so they weren’t the storm cloud gray she enjoyed so much.
It was entirely unfair that he could be so handsome while covered in dirt and mud and blood. She cleared her throat and took out another wet wipe to clean up his forehead. As she did, the wound started to bleed a little bit. “This is going to need stitches,” she said, bottling up her emotions.
This was Holden Holstein. She knew exactly who he was, and what kind of power he held over her heart. He had the ability to shatter it into a thousand pieces, and she was still trying to find all of the shards from last time, thank you very much.
“Do you have any supplies?” she asked, peering at him.
