Page 42 of Stroke of Fate

Outside, the temperature has dropped significantly, and Bear shivers beside me as we walk.

“Here, take this,” I say, pulling my hoodie over my head and offering it to her.

She must be cold because she lifts her arms without objection. I slip it on for her, and it drapes loosely over her slender frame. She looks good in my clothes. Damn good.

“Thanks, Whiskey Eyes.” Bear looks at me with such tenderness that I find it difficult to focus on anything but the pounding of my heart.

“You’re welcome,” I force the words out so I don’t do something stupid, like kiss her on the sidewalk. “Come on, the car isn’t much further.”

My hand moves to her lower back, where it stays for the rest of the walk.

When we reach my car, I open the passenger side door and help her in. Once she’s buckled, I walk over to my side. Cranking up the heat, I grab an unopened bottle of water from yesterday’s practice and hand it to her.

“Thank you.” She bites her lip shyly, and it takes everything in me not to let the groan building up in me pass my lips.

Everything she does is sexy as hell, and I doubt she even knows it. I grip the steering wheel tighter to get a handle on my emotions as I put the car into drive. It’s cold outside, but I could do with cracking a window. Maybe cold air works as well as a cold shower.

“I hope this won’t make things awkward for you,” Bear says once there’s some distance between us and the party.

She already sounds much more alert.

I frown, keeping my eyes on the road. “What do you mean?”

She clears her throat. “Won’t your girlfriend mind that you’re giving me a ride home?”

“Girlfriend?” This time I do look at her.

Bear’s gaze is focused on the empty plastic bottle in her hand.

“Yeah, the girl in your shower the day I came to your apartment.”

She looks up, crinkling her nose, and I can’t stop the huge smile that spreads across my face. She’s jealous, and I shouldn’t feel this damn happy about it.

“That was my friend Mack, who’s very much a guy,” I say, hiding the laughter in my voice with a fake cough.

“Oh, uh, forget I said anything,” she mumbles.

I stay silent, waiting for her to say more. But after a few seconds, Bear’s soft, steady breathing fills the car.

She stays asleep for the rest of the drive and only stirs when I pull into our parking lot. I’m out of my seat and opening her door before she’s fully registered we’re home. The minute her feet touch the ground, I scoop her into my arms.

“I can walk, you know. I already feel better,” she protests.

I look down at her. Those pretty blue eyes seem less glassy and more focused, but I still don’t put her down. I like having her pressed against me.

“You’re tired, and I don’t mind carrying you.”

Bear doesn’t reply, but she doesn't have to, not when her arms tighten around my neck. I keep hold of her until we reach her front door, where I’m forced to set her down so she can unlock it.

Once we’re inside, she squeals as I quickly lift her back into my arms and shut the door with my shoulder. I stride down the short hallway with purpose. It’s easy to figure out which door leads to her bedroom since our apartments have the same layout.

The sweet scent of strawberries and cream hits me the moment I step into her bedroom. Bear wriggles in my arms, but I tighten my hold on her, not wanting to let go just yet.

She lets out a tiny huff when she realizes I’m not budging. “Are you going to let me go?”

Never.

I reluctantly set her down on the edge of the bed and step back. Bear reaches for the hem of my hoodie, but I stop her with a hand on her arm.

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