Page 49 of Hard to Love
Or not.
She’d obviously failed miserably—or scored majorly—when she’d bought those bath towels. Around Alex’s hips and thick thighs, the brown terrycloth looked like a hand towel. Possibly one of those fingertip deals mothers put out in the powder room around the holidays. As much as she wanted to look her fill of what that fabric was stretched taut across, her gaze dropped to his left leg. A map, so detailed it stole her breath, wrapped Alex’s calf. The compass inked on top of the map had somehow been designed so the hands looked as if they were spinning.
Her inner thighs clenched together without her consent, but she could’ve crossed them like a pretzel knot and it wouldn’t have soothed the ache between them. Because Alex was tattooed from the ankle up, and the sight of that beautiful ink hit Greer straight in the panties.
“I’m…uh…” Her brain and her mouth were playing that old string-and-can game. And not very well. Neither seemed to be able to understand what the other was saying.
“The word you’re looking for issorry.”
Oh, no it wasn’t. Replace that S with an H and that second R with an N, and they might have a winner.
And if she could play Scrabble, her brain was obviously working on some levels.
“You really should let me sketch you.”
“What would you be willing to give me in return?”
A world-rocking few hours in this bed. Yeah, but whose world would actually be rocked—his or hers? “Are we playing the give-to-get game again?”
The slight smile around his lips tightened into anexpression different from his normal scowl. Hurt, maybe? “Want me to take off the towel?”
God, did she.
But his words weren’t a teasing question. Weren’t even a dispassionate acceptance of her obsession with his body. They sounded like a bitter souvenir from other women who’d wanted to see him exposed.
Greer jumped off the bed, and the magazine fell to sprawl on the rug. “Alex, I am sorry. I didn’t think. I mean, I thought we were friends, and this is pretty much what I do with any of my friends.” The door was only five steps away. If she could get to it, they could both forget this. “I’ll just wait outside.” One. Two. Three. Four. Fi—
Her head-down progress came to an abrupt stop. Alex’s hand around her upper arm burned her skin in a decadently delicious way. “We are friends.” His voice was low, rough, and if she wasn’t completely oblivious, somewhat turned on. “I’m not used to all this. People popping into my space whenever they want. Blind dates with other men.”
She rubbed her lips together to hold in a bubble of laughter. “It wasn’t a blind date. You damn well knew you were going to my brother’s house.”
“You set me up with four guys, Greer.”
Yeah, her lips weren’t nearly strong enough to withstand this. “I wasn’t sure which you’d like best.”
He drew her—slowly, gently—toward him, until the front of her shirt brushed his bare chest. “I met Cooper Crowe.”
“Oh.” Coop had recently come home after his physical therapy rehab, but if Alex wanted the scoop, she wasn’t his girl. “Look, Coop’s story isn’t mine to tell, so if—”
“I’ve lost shit in my life.” His tone was even rougher than before, not with lust this time, but with pain. “Lostpieces of myself. Not physical pieces. But pieces I thought would kill me.”
“Oh, Alex.” She cupped his shoulders in her palms, slid them up his neck to soothe his tension-filled muscles.
“I’ve been feeling sorry for myself for a long fucking time. Then I see a guy who’s lost his leg. And you know what? He sat there laughing and drinking and bullshitting just like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn’t fighting those crutches. Fighting that leg.”
She ran her thumbs along his jaw, used her other fingers to massage his neck. “What did you lose?”
“Not a what.”
A who then. “You don’t have to say anything else—”
“My brother Javier.”
God, as many times as she’d threatened to kill her brother, just the thought of something happening to Cal made her stomach feel the size of a lentil. She closed her eyes, leaned her forehead against Alex’s shoulder as though she were the one who needed comfort. “I’m sorry. Sorry I was in here. Sorry I keep pressing you. Sorry I keep shoving Prophecy down your throat.”
“Did you mean it?”
When she opened her eyes again, Alex’s dark gaze was intent on her face. “I wouldn’t say I’m sorry if I didn’t mean it.”
