Page 142 of Over the Line

“Yeah?”

He nodded slowly, still holding my gaze. “It’s amazing, don’t get me wrong.” He smoothed my wet hair. “Just… don’t think for a second it’s—the main attraction here is you, Liam.”

God, the things my heart did in that moment—I’d never felt anything like it before. And all the while, he watched me with fear in his eyes, as if he thought this would be the part where I told him he was coming on too strong and I was just here for dick.

Lucky for me, the heat and water pressure had encouraged the muscle in my back to calm down a little, and while it still hurt, it wasn’t so blinding anymore. Ignoring the lingering pain, I wrapped my arms around Garrett’s neck, pulled him in, and kissed him.

He tightened his embrace as he returned my kiss. He held on fiercely but gently, keeping me flush against him but not jostling my shoulder or straining my neck. It was like he knew exactly how much I not only could handle, but needed.

It was the farthest thing I could imagine from a romantic setting—him helping me get some pain relief in the shower—but it was easily the most romantic moment of my life. He’d come over here tonight thinking we were going to fuck each other senseless. When he’d realized I was in too much pain, he’d shifted to taking care of me.

And then, when I’d tipped my hand about worrying he’d get tired of this…

“The main attraction here is you, Liam.”

Was this what it felt like to fall for someone? I was pretty sure I’d loved my ex, but I’d never felt anything like this before. Anything this raw and sweet and perfect.

“I’m sorry tonight’s a disappointment,” I whispered. “But I’m really, really glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” He kissed me lightly. “Why don’t we go get some meds into you so you feel better?”

“I do feel better. The water helped a lot.”

“Mmhmm. And the muscle relaxers will help more. Come on.”

We got out of the shower, and I was still ready to argue that I was fine and didn’t need meds. By the time I’d dried off and laid back on my bed, though…

“Ugh. Fine.” I rubbed my neck and winced. “Muscle relaxers.”

“I figured. Where are they?”

Oh. Shit. Right. They didn’t just magically appear in my hand, didn’t they? Bastards.

“Bathroom medicine cabinet. Top shelf.” I paused. “It’s the bigger bottle, I think. I don’t remember what it’s called.”

“The one that’s not Percocet, I’m guessing?”

I laughed softly. “Yeah. That one.”

He disappeared into the bathroom and returned a moment later with the pill bottle in question. He opened the lid, then handed me the water bottle I kept beside the bed. “Do you need to eat something with it?”

That brought me up short. “I… Shit, maybe?”

Garrett’s smile was soft. “Let’s err on the side of caution, yeah?” He didn’t wait for me to say anything one way or the other, and I listened as he headed downstairs. Alone in the bedroom, pill and water in hand, I stared at the ceiling. I already felt a million times better after the shower. Being with Garrett didn’t fix the muscles that wanted to dismantle my skeleton, but he was good for my head. His company. His presence. His touch.

“The main attraction here is you, Liam.”

I closed my eyes and sighed into the stillness. Hearing him say that now—after he’d had a good, long taste of how much havoc hockey could wreak on a relationship—made my world tilt. God, I wanted to believe that meant we had some staying power. That he really wanted to be here for more than just sex.

But I wasn’t stupid. My life was dominated by a sport that was turning me into a physical train wreck, and my days in that sport were numbered. The only man who’d stuck around for any length of time had gotten tired of it, and that was back when my body bounced back better and faster. It was only going to get worse. Even after I retired, I’d still have to keep training almost to my current level because I’d been warned numerous times that my physical condition was the only thing keeping most of my injuries contained. If I started to lose that, everything I’d ever done to this carcass would come back to haunt me more than it already did.

Maybe Garrett thought I was the main attraction, but we’d see how long that lasted once he understood what was beneath the skin.

The stairs creaked, and Garrett’s soft footsteps came up the hall. He walked into the bedroom with a faintly sheepish expression and a small stack of cookies in his hand. “They’re not much,” he explained, “but they’ll keep your stomach from rebelling.”

I chuckled as he offered me three of the four cookies. “They’re fine. I’ll never say no to chocolate chip.”

“Same.” He wasn’t kidding—the fourth cookie was his. Fair enough, I thought.