Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Risked his life.
For me.
This goofy, too-young, over-the-top man-child, who makes me feel things I’m nowhere near ready to feel, looked Death straight in the eye and said, “No, sir, you will not have Makena today,” and charged into battle in his shining silver pick-up truck and I…
I don’t know what to do with that right now.
But I know I’m grateful.
So fucking grateful.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice breaking as tears fill my eyes again. “Thank you so much, Parker.”
“Of course, weirdo.” He reaches over and takes my hand again, his fingers warm and steady. “Anytime. Every time.”
I shouldn’t cling to him. I should give his hand a thankful squeeze and let go, remember all the reasons having more-than-friends feelings for him is a bad idea.
Instead, I hold on tight.
Just for now. Just until the shaking stops.
Just until I figure out what comes next.
Parker eventually merges onto the highway, picking up speed, leaving the flood behind us.
But I have a feeling I’m already in deep water of a different kind…
The kind that leaves a girl rethinking the wisdom of staying in the shallow end.
Chapter
Three
PARKER
My knee is fucked.
I know this with the same certainty that I know the sky is blue, the sun is hot, and Makena looks criminally good in soaking wet underwear.
But as I pull into my driveway, I keep my mouth shut about the throbbing behind my patella. Acknowledging it aloud might make it real, and I’m not ready for real at four a.m. after nearly dying at least once tonight.
What I’m ready for is sleep.
And ice.
And possibly amputation if it means the stabbing pain will stop.
But first, I need to get Makena inside without letting her see me limp. She’s not stupid. She’ll know what a big deal an injury like this is for a man who makes his living as a professional athlete, and I refuse to give her anything else to be upset about tonight.
She’s been through enough.
“Wow. This is really nice,” she says as I cut the engine. Her voice is small, exhausted. She’s got my gym towel wrapped around her shoulders, but it’s doing fuck-all to hide the fact that she’s basically naked.
But at least she’s stopped shaking. For a while there, I was afraid she was going into shock, and we should be on our way to the ER instead of my place.
The ER would be smart for both of you, idiot. That knee isn’t going to get any less fucked by sitting around with your thumb up your ass.
But I enjoy having a thumb up my ass, I remind the inner voice. Aloud, I say, “Thank you. I don’t like to brag, but my lawn is the envy of all who behold it.”
She nods. “It’s hot. And giving major suburban dad energy. Do you mow it yourself?
“I do. And fertilize it. And roll naked across it when the moon is full.”
“But only when it’s full,” she deadpans. “That would be weird during a new moon.”
“Totally weird,” I agree, enjoying how easy it is between us. Even now, when we’ve both definitely had much better nights.
I flex my fingers on the steering wheel, trying to psych myself up for the walk to the front door.
It’s maybe thirty feet.
I’ve skated through worse pain than this.
Of course, that was before I tore something in my knee playing action hero. But it was worth it. One hundred percent worth it.
Fuck…I’m so glad she’s okay.
When I busted through that door and saw her on top of her counter with the water rising all around her…
Well, I’ve never been so grateful that I’m a lunatic.
But I am a lunatic. I still can’t believe I drove my truck into a building. I haven’t had a chance to look at the front of Thor, Truck of Thunder, yet, but I’m sure he’s going to need a trip to the body shop, bare minimum.
“If you’re waiting for me to invite you in, I can’t,” Makena says, breaking into my racing thoughts. “Because it’s…not my house.”
Right. Focus. Stop spiraling.
There will be time to process all of this later, after we’ve slept.
“Of course. Come in, woman. Let’s get you settled.” I grab the door handle and swing myself out, clenching my jaw as my right leg takes my weight and the pain spikes hard and hot.
The world goes sparkly at the edges for a second, but I power through it.
You’re fine. You’re completely fine. Your career isn’t over. You didn’t just destroy everything you’ve worked for since you were six years old.
And if you did.
Fine.
Her life is worth your career.
Any human life is, but especially hers.
That’s right, Inner Voice. Keep it positive. Much better than calling me an idiot and criticizing my thumbs and ass.
I trail Makena to the front porch, hiding my limp as best I can. She turns back to me, blinking in the porch light in that champagne-colored lingerie that’s basically see-through, even now that it’s had time to dry. The porch light hits her like she’s under a spotlight, and Christ, she’s beautiful. Hair frizzed into messy curls, mascara smudged under her eyes, my gym towel around her neck like a Victoria’s Secret boxer who just won a big match…