Joker (Hell's Ankhor #8) - Aiden Bates Page 0,3

a different person.

But then as soon as I tried to talk to him, it was like a mask came slamming down, and he went into full asshole mode. Any sane person would take that as a signal to leave Joker alone.

Yet as soon as I’d realized he was hurt, I’d basically tripped over my feet catching up with him and Logan. What was my problem? Why was I so intrigued by that smile I’d only seen once?

I could hear Dawson, my best friend and second-in-command at work, in my head as clearly as if he were standing right beside me. “You’re such a glutton for punishment.”

Maybe he was onto something with that. I always ended up interested in guys that weren’t right for me—projects, Dawson called them. Dawson seemed to think that I thought I could fix people—which never ended well. Couldn’t fix people that didn’t want to be saved. I’d spent the last couple years getting over that compulsion, much to Dawson’s relief, and I wasn’t looking for a bullshit codependent relationship again. I wanted something real. So regardless of how hot Joker was, he’d made it clear he wasn’t the right guy for me.

So I purposefully didn’t respond to Joker’s little quip, and I could tell from his irritated look that my silence pissed him off.

Guys like him thrived on attention. If I responded to his little dig, then he’d just be encouraged to act like an asshole even more.

I pulled the gauze off Joker’s thumb. The bleeding had slowed enough that I could swipe a covering of antibacterial gel over it before I covered it with a bandage, then wrapped that tightly in medical tape, ensuring the pressure was hard enough to keep it from continuing to bleed.

Joker shifted a little from foot to foot as I wrapped the tape around his thumb. His skin was soft in places where I touched him, his calluses rough in others. I patched him up slowly, carefully, feeling his pulse flutter under my thumb.

I glanced up and couldn’t bite back a slight smirk of my own. He’d been trying to get a rise out of me, and look how easy it was for me to turn that around and get a rise out of him. At my expression, Joker exhaled hard through his nose and his eyes flashed with anger.

Heat rushed through me despite myself—he was really sexy when he was riled up. All huffy and frustrated, a little fidgety. Couldn’t help but wonder if he was the same way in different circumstances. If I pushed him up against the bathroom counter, rubbed my hand over his cock through his jeans, would be react with the same twitchy, responsive irritation? Fuck—I shoved the thought from my mind. I seriously needed to get laid if that’s immediately where my mind went.

I finished wrapping his thumb. “Too tight?” I asked.

“Nah, it’s good,” Joker said, drawing his hand out of my grasp and examining the bandaging job. His expression softened slightly. “Thanks.”

He seemed genuine, which surprised me. I’d expected him to make some bullshit crack about my medical abilities, but he really sounded… grateful. It was a weird pivot from the snarky asshole I was used to dealing with. Hell, the snarky asshole he’d been just a minute ago.

“Sure,” I said. “It’s not a problem.”

Weirdly, I meant it.

Now would be the time for both of us to leave the bathroom and rejoin the party. But I wanted to poke more at this version of Joker—this slightly softer, more open version. Because who the fuck knew when I’d see him like this again? Likely never. With any luck, really, I wouldn’t be seeing much of him at all.

I nodded toward the hunk of wood balanced precariously on the edge of the sink. “This what you were working on when you sliced open your thumb?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” Joker muttered.

He went to grab it, but I was faster, snatching it off the sink. It was a carving. It clearly wasn’t finished, but the silhouette of a dog was visible. And it was detailed, too, with big ears, and long elegant legs that made the dog look like she was bounding forward. It looked a lot like Blade and Logan’s dog, Gretel.

“You carved this?”

“Yeah,” Joker said after a pause. “Just keeps my hands occupied.”

He frowned, like he was bracing himself. For what, I wasn’t sure. Did he think I was going to talk smack? That was his specialty, not mine.

“It’s great,” I said. “Really impressive. I’ve got