Page 19 of The No Touch Roommate Rule
I sigh, the fun going out of the morning as reality sets in. “I’m not sure. I haven’t gotten that far yet, but I probably need to contact the insurance company. File a claim. Call my landlord.Make sure the people who would worry if they thought I was dead know that I’m alive.” I stab the last blackberry in my curd. “Fun things like that. What about you?”
“Same-ish,” he says, echoing my sigh. “Need to call Coach. Team doctor. Probably my parents. It’ll give them something to be pissed about aside from their divorce proceedings.”
I blink. “That’s still going on?”
“Oh yeah. They’re dragging it out like it’s their job. If I didn’t know better, I’d think litigation was their mutual kink. But they don’t have any of those. Just mutual rage.” He shifts in his chair, wincing. “Speaking of rage, my knee is pissed. I’m going to grab a couple of ibuprofen before I even try to get dressed.”
“Need help getting back to your room before I clean up in here?”
“Yeah, a little help would be good. Thanks.” He stands, and I slide under his arm, adjusting my grip on his waist, trying not to think about how solid he feels.
How delicious. How tempting…
It’s good that we made roommate rules.
And really good that we agreed to no hugging while intoxicated. I can barely resist Parker when I’m stone cold sober, let alone after a drink or two.
When we reach his door, he rests a hand on the doorframe. “I can make it from here.”
“You sure?”
He nods. “Yeah. Thanks for breakfast.” He smiles down at me, the warmth in his gaze making my stomach flip. “I’m glad you’re here. At least we won’t have to deal with the flood fallout alone.”
I nod, tummy still fluttering. “Yeah. It’s a lot. I really hope your knee is okay.”
“Me, too.” He reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, the feel of his fingertips on my bare skin enough to makeme tingle all over. “I’m dreading this phone call, though. And the doctor visit. And…everything else.”
The vulnerability in his voice makes my chest ache. “I bet. I’m dreading mine, and I don’t have nearly as much on the line.”
“Yes, you do,” he says, his hand falling to his side. “Your career’s on the line, too. I get that. I mean, you haven’t peaked at twenty-seven, but it won’t be easy starting over.”
I shake my head. “You haven’t peaked. You’ve still got a long, amazing career ahead of you.” I pray it’s true.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He exhales, his sugar-scented breath warm on my forehead. “Either way, I think a hug would help.”
My brows slide up. “A hug?”
“It’s before five and we’re both sober,” he says. “I mean, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t on a sugar high right now, but we’re not counting sugar, right?”
“Right,” I affirm, but I don’t move.
A part of me is afraid to.
Afraid that I’ve overestimated how much the liquor and the late hour had to do with what happened between us last night. Afraid all it will take is one up-close-and-personal whiff of his sexy, Parker-scented skin, and I’ll be dry humping his poor, injured body in the hallway.
“Come on, Mack,” he rumbles in a soft voice that does scandalous things to my panties. “It’s just a hug. You know you want to…”
“No, I don’t,” I lie.
But I do.
I want it so much, it’s all I can do to hold back a happy sigh as I step into him and he pulls me close.
This is no quick, friendly squeeze. No sterile embrace with a side of shoulder patting. This is the real deal. His arms wrap all the way around me, cradling me like something precious. One hand rests between my shoulder blades as the other molds tomy lower back, fitting me against him like I was made to fill this space.
Against my will, I press my face to his chest, breathing him in.
He smells like soap and sugar and that sexy Parker scent that makes my thoughts go sticky. I feel his heartbeat against my cheek, steady and as strong as the arms tightening around me.
