“Is that your blood?” My mate immediately rushed over to me when his eyes fell on the big crimson stain on my white blouse.
Without asking for permission, he gently pulled the collar of my shirt to examine my shoulder. After he made sure there were no wounds, he seemed relieved. His hands moved to my face, cupping my cheeks as he stared into my eyes, but I immediately looked away.
“No, it’s…it’s Milo’s,” I confessed, afraid of how he would react.
To my surprise, he showed concern, not jealousy. “What were the two of you up to?”
Once again, I stiffened. Hell, not even I understood what had just happened; how was I supposed to explain it to him? Oh, nothing much. I was just so overwhelmed by my experience that I tore an alligator apart, then my best friend drove me to a nostalgic place a
