Page 105 of The Heart Breaker

When we pull up to my place, I turn the engine off and climb off the bike, reaching for the helmet on her head. I smooth her hair back once it’s off, my hands lingering while I just… look at her.

What the hell has this girl done to me?

“I can’t go inside,” she blurts out, which makes me snap out of my thoughts.

My brows pull together. “Why not?”

A sigh leaves her lips. “I’m… out of commission.”

I lift a brow, tucking the helmet under my arm. “Didn’t realize I was paying.”

She gives me a flat look. “I’m on my period, asshole,” she says. “We can’t fuck.”

The first thing I feel is relief. Stupid, instant relief that she’s not saying no because she’s done with me.

But then I feel irritated because she thinks I only brought her here to have sex.

“Who said anything about fucking, Prescott? I need sleep. That’s it.”

She just looks at me, like she’s trying to figure out if I’m serious. Her lips part slightly, the wind pushing strands of hair across her face, and I want to kiss her so badly.

I grip the helmet a little tighter instead.

“C’mon,” I say. “It’s cold.”

I jam the key into the door and push it open, flicking on the lamp by my bed. When I turn back, she’s still standing by the doorway with her arms folded over herself.

I shrug out of my jacket. “You planning on standing there all night?”

She gives me a look, but pushes off the wall and sits on the edge of my bed. I grab a clean shirt and walk over, and the second I stop in front of her, she narrows her eyes.

“I can do it myself,” she says.

“I know.”

She holds my gaze for a second longer, then lets out a breath and lifts her arms so I can pull her hoodie over her head and slide my shirt down over her. Part of it’s just wanting her comfortable, but mostly it’s just the much less noble fact that I like seeing her in my clothes way more than I should.

She kicks her shoes off, and climbs further onto the bed and pulls the covers over herself, but while I’m stripping off my own clothes, I catch the way she keeps shifting, her eyes squeezing shut every few seconds.

I tug off my hoodie, toss it aside, and head for the kitchen, opening the cabinet above the stove and grabbing the heating pad I use after games, when my shoulder’s wrecked or my back’s locked up so badly I can barely turn my head. I plug it in on the counter, grab a bottle of water from the fridge, then dig through the drawer until I find some painkillers.

When I make my way to the bed, she’s curled on her side with the blanket pulled up to her waist, and her lips part a little as her gaze drops to the heating pad.

“Why do you have that?”

I glance down at it, suddenly feeling kind of stupid standing there holding all this shit like I have any idea what I’m doing. “I use it after games,” I mutter, lifting a shoulder. “Figured it might help. With the cramps.”

Her lips tug into the smallest smile as she takes the water and painkillers when I hand them over. She swallows the pills, takes another sip of water, and I peel the blanket back just enough to slide the heating pad underneath, settling it low on her stomach.

She sucks in a breath the second the heat hits her, a soft sound slipping out before she can stop it.

“That’s…” Her eyes drift shut. “Okay. Yeah. That’s really good.”

I climb in beside her and pull the blanket up over us. She turns onto her side to face me, her cheek pressed into my pillow, her eyes already heavy, and a smile pulls at my lips.

Usually, by now, we’d be fighting. Mouthing off. Putting our hands on each other in the only way we seemed to know how for a while. But right now she’s curled up in my bed, half asleep, looking softer than I’m used to, blinking at me through those blue eyes, and there’s something deeply wrong with me for how much I want to keep her like this.

I slide a hand under the blanket and rest it on her hip, leaving her space to pull away if she wants to, but she just shifts closer until her knee brushes mine.