Page 46 of Force Play

And that does it. I give my head a little shake freeing it from its lust-addled state. “Maybe check his while you’re at it. All of my clothes are on the right way.”

Grabbing the shirt tucked into the waistband of his joggers, he shrugs it on. “Did you give her the lowdown on her restrictions?”

“Sure did,” Grant says slowly, like he’s not sure how much he wants to involve himself.

“And?” Dom prompts, looking at me this time.

“Take it easy and ice it,” I summarize leaving out the bits I didn’t like.

“That doesn’t sound right.” Dom frowns and looks back at Grant.

“Limited weight bearing, especially for the next week, no high-impact activities. The pool is okay. Same deal as when you sprained your ankle sliding into second.”

“Thanks for looking after her. We better get you out of here.” Dom hovers over me, reaching down to help me up before sliding the crutches towards me. His hand never leaves my bicep until I’m stable on my feet.

It’s the same through the dark parking lot. And when he helps me into the truck. Under different circumstances, I would fight this, and not allow anyone to help. I’ve been strong for so long that anything less feels like failing. But all of my fight is gone at the moment, and as long as it gets me home to my bed, I’ll go along with anything.

Leaning across my upper body he grabs my seat belt and buckles me in. I blink back at him, not realizing he’d already joined me in the car.

“Is there anything you need from your place for the night before we head to mine?”

That wakes me the hell up. “Uh-uh. Nope. Abso-fucking-lutely not.”

“You heard Grant, someone needs to keep an eye on you tonight.” He narrows his eyes at me looking more serious than I’ve ever seen him look. And damn it, even exhausted I can’t deny it’s kind of hot to see his assertive side. Or it would be if it were anyone but him.

“So come stay at my place. You have to go up and down the stairs at your place.”

“Only if I plan on coming and going. Which I don’t.”

“What if there’s an emergency? Are you going to wait for me to come over and help you?”

“No.”

“Then it’s settled. We’re either both staying at your place or mine. You pick, but let me remind you there’s only one bed at your place. And I’m not sleeping on the couch after playing a game when there’s a perfectly good bed at my place.”

“I’m not sleeping on the couch in my own damn place. Not today.” As my frustration escalates, so does the volume of my voice.

“Hey. It’s okay.” Before I know what’s happening, his large palm covers my thigh, squeezing lightly.

“No, it’s not. Nothing is okay.” Bordering on straight up panic I look at him silently pleading.

“Let me make this okay, just for tonight. Come to my place and you can soak in the tub—I’ll give you space. Or we’ll go to your place, even if it means I’m sleeping on the couch. Poppy and the girls would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

There’s an earnest concern in his voice that I hear so rarely from anyone but my best friends now that my mom is gone. Brianna gave me glimpses of it, but I never expected it from him, and I find myself caving to him because it just feels so damn good to be cared for. “No, you’re right. It’s silly for you to sleep on the couch. Go to your place.”

“You’re sure.”

“Mostly, but if you ask again, I might take it back.”

He rolls his teeth over his lips like it’s killing him not to gloat. “Noted.”

Other than helping me into the house and asking if there’s anything else he can do for me in approximately a dozen ways, Dom sticks to his word and leaves me alone. In theory, that sounds splendid, but now I’m sitting here alone, going stir crazy. As tired as I am, I can’t even think about sleep, not with the sweat and dirt from my ride earlier still clinging to me.

Pulling the hoodie over my head I set it off to the side. Next comes my tank top and sports bra, both too gross to wear later. Seated on the edge of the bed, I use my uninjured foot to lift my hips enough to slip my bike shorts and underwear down my legs. Annoyance creeps in as I look at the pile of dirty clothes. Another night of somehow ending up in his clothes.

What aggravates me more than anything is how comfortable they are. The oversized fit and softness you can only get when someone else breaks them in. A thrill races through me at the mere memory of the possessiveness that filled his chestnut eyes when they roamed over me in the hallway the other morning after seeing me in them.

Using the crutches I make my way to the bathroom and set them off to the side. The tile is cold against my bare skin as I sit on the edge and fill the massive tub. Swirling my hand through the water I test the temperature. When it’s just below scalding, I add some lavender scented Epsom salts from the wicker basket next to the tub.

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