Oliver settled onto the couch as Josefina pulled out her first-aid kit.
"Oliver, why didn't you go to the hospital? What if I wasn't home? Who would have taken care of you?"
Despite his pale face, Oliver flashed a cheeky grin. "I knew my Josie would be here. We're connected, remember?"
Josefina was at a loss for words.
She reached for the anesthesia, but Oliver grabbed her hand. "Josie, it's just a scratch. No need for that."
"Are you nuts, Oliver? You’re not afraid of a little pain?"
"Pain's good. It'll make sure I never forget what happened today."
Josefina rolled her eyes.
Ignoring his antics, she stuffed a thick wad of gauze into his mouth and grabbed a bright flashlight to get a clearer view of the wound.
"Let's get that shirt off you," she said, eyeing his clothes.
Helping Oliver sit up, she carefully peeled his shirt away.
Once he was shirtless, Josefina laid a cashmere throw on the couch for him to lie down on.
She then eyed Oliver's belt, realizing it would have to come off for her to properly tend to the wound.
The thought made her cheeks—and ears—burn with embarrassment.
Oliver seemed to catch on to her discomfort and chuckled. "Josie, I thought doctors were supposed to look past all that? Don’t overthink it, just follow the usual procedure."
Josefina shot him a glare. "I'm not touching your belt. You can handle that yourself if you're so capable."
Oliver didn’t push her. Instead, he effortlessly unbuckled his belt.
The sound echoed in Josefina's ears, sending her thoughts racing...



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