Page 139 of Over the Line

Temo nodded. “What he said. We’re a team. If someone goes down—next man up. We’ve got it.” His brow creased. “We just don’t want you to be hurt hurt.”

I swallowed, wondering when my throat had tightened. “Thanks, guys. And I’ll… I’ll be okay.” I tried to shift around, which my back did not appreciate. “I’ll be okay.”

They were clearly dubious but didn’t push the issue.

Minutes later, the pilot announced we were starting our descent into Pittsburgh, and panic crackled through me. Not just because landing was going to hurt, either.

I had plans after this flight. I’d been looking forward to bending Garrett over the nearest surface and making sure he still felt me when I left for my next road trip.

Right now, I wasn’t even sure I was going to be able to pick up my suitcase or drive home.

Fuck. That wasn’t good.

We’d spent days spinning each other up with promises of making up for lost time. I could still see Garrett in my mind’s eye, lying back on his bed with his dick in his hand and cum all over his stomach, my promises of hot sex still ringing in the air.

I was going to disappoint him tonight, wasn’t I?

Oh God. I’d been so determined to carry my team last night, so hellbent on not letting them down… now I was going to pay for that with Garrett. Now he was going to pay for it. After we’d already only been able to fuck one goddamned time since the dad trip.

How long is he going to put up with this?

I made it home without incident. Collecting my suitcase and getting it into my car hadn’t been fun, but I’d managed. Both my bags were still in the car now, and that was where they’d stay until these muscle spasms eased.

I had painkillers. I had muscle relaxers. I could take one, and they’d probably help a lot.

I considered it, too, but held off. There were all my usual reservations about only taking something when I was desperate because I was scared of getting hooked. I was pretty sure I was that desperate at this point, but I still held off.

Garrett was on his way.

He’d texted a little while ago to let me know he was leaving his place, which meant he’d be here any minute now. He was coming over, expecting to tear up the bed with me, and what was I doing? Trying not to cry while I stretched my back and arms and begged those muscles to let go. There was one in particular—one that Mel said connected the scapula to the spine, I thought—that was so tight, I could barely move. Even breathing made my damn eyes water. And that was to say nothing of the bullshit running up my neck and higher; I always forgot how cable-tight neck muscles could lead to wicked headaches.

The back bone’s connected to the bullshit bone…

If they wouldn’t loosen up enough for me to give my boyfriend everything he deserved, could they at least relax enough for me to be halfway decent company? Because right now, all I could think about was the pain. It was all-consuming in ways even my separated shoulder hadn’t been.

The bullshit bone’s connected to the fuckery bone…

God, this sucked. I tried every stretch I could think of. All the ones I’d done in physical therapy past and physical therapy present, and would probably do in physical therapy yet to come. They didn’t work. They just hurt. That stupid muscle seemed to get even tighter, the pain cutting deeper.

The fuckery bone’s connected to the please-kill-me bone…

And then… the garage door opener started up.

“Oh, fuck my life,” I whispered.

A panicked thought crossed my mind: what if he came in, grabbed me, and kissed me? We’d been known to get very physical the instant we were in the same space, and I stupidly hadn’t texted him a heads-up. For all I know, he was going to step through that door and give us both one hell of a rude awakening.

The car door shut. Then the garage door opener kicked on again. Over the rumble of the motor, Garrett’s footsteps approached.

With my heart in my throat, I opened the door.

Our eyes met.

And Garrett froze.

Lips apart, he said, “Holy shit. Are you okay?”

I was equal parts relieved that he’d caught on and mortified that I was being that obvious. But as long as he’d noticed, why bother trying to hide it? He was going to figure it out the instant we tried to do anything he’d come here for.