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Rebecca let out a yelp as the knife slipped, piercing the skin of her finger. “Shit!”
It had been a perfectly nice evening so far, and she’d been excited about cooking with Ted in her kitchen, even if she was only on chopping duty. It was just like her to ruin it with an injury before they’d even opened the wine. She instinctively grabbed her finger with her right hand, applying pressure to the cut. “That’ll teach me to stay out of the kitchen.”
“Yeah, I’m not letting you stain my baba ganoush again,” Ted joked, although he was clearly more than a little worried. “Remind me to keep you far away from eggplants and pointy objects in the future. Got a band-aid somewhere?”
She nodded. "Plasters are in the first aid kit in the cupboard under the sink.”
Ted headed straight for it, getting down on his knees, manoeuvring politely around her legs to get at it.
“You’re always saying that British words are confusing, but surely you agree that calling an aubergine an eggplant is absurd.”
“There’s a white version that sort of looks like an egg. Maybe we’ll hunt some down next time. As long as you leave me in charge of cutting ‘em up.”
Ted retrieved the kit and got back up to face her, all the while Rebecca tried very hard to appear unaffected by the promise of next time.
“May I?” Ted gestured at her hand, and she nodded. Shit, it really did hurt quite a bit.
Ted carefully assessed the damage. “Ouch, that cuts nearly as deep as- shoot, can’t think of one.” He furrowed his brow a little - it was sort of adorable.
“Doing the Unstuck,” Rebecca replied without giving it much thought.
“The Cure! Excellent deep cut, Boss. I’m impressed you could just pull that at the drop of a hat.”
She felt weirdly proud at the praise, thankful for his ability to put a smile on her face even now.
“I’ve got an uncle, who always makes these awful jokes about how a woman’s place is in the kitchen, but I think you’re walking proof of just how wrong he is about that.”
“I’ll have you know, I make a pretty damn good breakfast smoothie,” Rebecca said, mock-offended. “I’ve also more or less mastered the art of the soft-boiled egg.”
Ted let out a low, impressed whistle, as he looked through the first-aid kit, fingers fidgeting with the tiny packages. “I stand corrected. Guess that’s one thing my uncle Bill almost wasn’t completely wrong about. Still, I’m never inviting that guy over for Thanksgiving again.”
She smiled, his meandering a nice distraction from the pain.
“Huh. No disinfection wipes. You really oughta keep this thing stocked. Never know when you’re gonna need it.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” She’d been meaning to get around to it. She felt stupid.
“None of that. C’mere.” He turned on the faucet, and she went towards him, letting him lead her hand under the cold water. His hands were a little callous, and she wondered how they’d come to be that way. She was so used to dating men who moisturised and worked in finance or did part time modelling, their skin unaltered by manual labour. She had trouble even imagining what kind of work would have roughened his hands like this. She’d have to ask him one day, she thought, as she felt the cool water hit her broken skin. The new sensation was uncomfortable at first, but after a second the cold felt soothing, dimming the pain a little, and the blood trickled away, revealing a deceptively thin-looking wound. Still, it wasn’t altogether comfortable. When Rebecca winced, Ted turned it off immediately. “Sorry there, Boss. Didn’t mean to hurt ya.”
She reached up and pressed her hand around her finger to slow the circulation again, but as Ted fumbled with the plaster wrapping, the blood once more began to trickle.
“Oh, dangit, would you look at that. I took too long and now it’s gonna get all messed up.”
“It’s fine, really, “Rebecca assured him. “Thank you for this. It’s nice that you’re here to lick my wounds.”
“Guess a lick would fix it, huh?” he joked, sticking his tongue out a little, but Rebecca froze, feeling herself flush at the sight of his tongue swiping against his lips. Shit.
“Oh, I- uh guess it could.” She tried to laugh it off, but her embarrassment only made her all the more obvious.
Ted stopped his movements and looked her in the eyes. It felt as if he were looking right through her. He stuck out his tongue again, half in jest, but half-serious now, and Rebecca stilled in his hand. And then he lowered his head to her hand, licking a careful line along the small wound until the slight trickle of blood was gone, leaving only the pinky shallow slit of exposed flesh. She trembled, breath caught in her throat as Ted pulled away and applied the plaster.
“There ya go. Good as new.” He let out a little embarrassed cough and smiled at her. “How are you feeling?”
His question reminded Rebecca to breathe. “Better.”