"Shit, shit, shit!" I yelled, yanking my hand back from the hot pan of cheese buns. In my hurry and mindless state, I'd grabbed the pan without a pot holder. They went clanking to the floor, rolling in several different directions. I'd already dropped several cinnamon rolls earlier while trying to bag them for a customer and was sent back here.
I'd been jumpier than a rabbit and apparently had left my mind at home. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why I was so incredibly nervous. I wanted to point the finger at Prim for her comment from yesterday but it was hard to bring myself to blame my sweet baby sister for anything.
Lost in my own daze, I hadn't paid attention to the voice talking to me until a large hand grabbed my shoulder—I jerked instantly and turned towards the offending person. Naturally, it had to be Peeta.
"You okay? How's your hand?" he asked kindly, prying it away from its currently crossed position against my chest. It was bright red with a small blister across the top of my palm. He let out an appreciative whistle. "Fine job of burning yourself there. Where's your head at Kat?"
I stared down, trying to will the blush that was creeping up my neck to stay down and not color my cheeks. His warm, calloused hands were sending tingles up my arm. I shrugged my shoulders in response to his question and headed towards the office where the first aid kit was. He followed hot on my heels.
I fumbled with the white metal case, trying to pry the locks off with my left hand, but I lacked the dexterity necessary to do so. Two frustrated sighs later, Peeta chuckled and took it from me. "You sit down, let me do it."
Rolling my eyes at being told what to do, I bit my lip, sealing my smart remark in as I sat down. He popped the case open easily and dug through each section, pulling several items out. The supplies were readied with such ease, that it was obvious he'd tended to burns before. Maybe his own or maybe Ross's.
"Peet?" chimed the familiar sing-song voice of Prim.
"In here."
Prim rounded the entrance to the office and let out a small gasp. "Wow, that looks like it hurts." She walked closer and picked up my hand, turning it under the light. "Looks easily like a partial-thickness burn, second-degree. Didn't anyone tell you not to play with hot things?" She waggled her eye-brows and winked before walking back towards the door.
Sweet, innocent little Prim was growing up right before my eyes. Making lewd innuendos and using her in-school nursing classes to diagnosis my hand. Gosh, did she make me proud and want to smother her all at the same time.
"Oh! I almost forgot to even tell you what I came back here for; Delly's upfront asking for you. I think her parents are with her too. I'll tell her you need a few."
The tall, blonde baker looked like he was ready to bust. His curls had fallen into his face and were sticking to his forehead. Without much thought, I reached up with my good hand and brushed them aside. He let out a low cough and looked up at me with his unnaturally blue eyes.
Red colored my cheeks at the intensity of his stare and hurriedly I offered up a quick sorry. It hurt as he cleaned up the burn and wiped on a thick, clear ointment carefully avoiding popping the blister. He applied a bandage and then wrapped my hand with gauze.
"Just keep it clean and be careful not to pop the blister. It's not the end of the world but it helps protect it from infection. If you do pop it, it'll weep so you'll need to change the bandage more often. The store should have the stuff you need or you can just use this kit, and I'll replenish it later. Doesn't matter to me." He still hadn't let my hand go during his entire spiel.
"Oh, okay. Try my best not to use my hand. Glad I wasn't planning on going hunting in the next couple of days."
"You hunt? I woulda never guessed."
"Yes, with a bow. My dad taught me as a kid and I wanted to get back into it. My boyfriend, not boyfriend, whatever he is, he didn't like me going to the range to practice my skills. I've been wanting to get back into it since I've been back." My eyes were looking every where except at Peeta as I talked about Marvel.
"I didn't know you had a boy-" I was so ecstatic at that moment for the familiar, shrill tone of Delly's voice growing closer. That discussion was not one to be had now when we were in this tiny office with my hormones wanting me to jump him.
"Delly! Delly! You're not supposed to be back there. It's regulation!" yelled Prim angrily over the blonde woman yelling for Peeta.
Peeta knitted his brows and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in what I could only guess was pure frustration. My god, what did he see in this girl? I asked myself while watching him brace himself for the wrath of his significant other.
"Peeta, what is taking you so long? We've been waiting over 20 minutes to see you. Prim said you'd be right there, ugh!" Her face was red and if she could have stuck her bottom lip out anymore, it could have been used as a step.
Peeta made a quick motion of his hand behind is back, indicating for me to stay put.
"I was just finishing something up in the office. It was important and this is my place of business; I don't have people to do things for me. I have to do it myself to be able to put a roof over my head and to buy stuff and to pay bills." I could tell by the stiffening of his broad-set, muscular shoulders that he was very close to loosing his temper.
"Gosh, you don't have to be so ugly about it, Peety," remarked Delly, pulling him along with her. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and flashed a small, sad smile in apology. Prim waited for the two to pass and pushed me back into the office.
"If you don't fix the Delly problem Katniss, so help me I'm going to whack her over the head with a rolling pin!" she threatened.
"It's not my problem to fix, Prim. He's a big boy and he made his bed, either he can lay in it or clean the sheets. I'm not doing it!" But in that moment, I really wanted to wanted to whack that girl over the head with the closet thing I could find.
