Page 93 of See You at the Finish Line

“Okay,” she says, her own eyes softening.

I give myself one more moment to stare at her, to feel her, and then it takes every ounce of my strength to pull away, coming to sit on the edge of the bed to try to collect myself. When she doesn’t move, I turn around to look at her. She’s staring up at the ceiling, breathing in and out deeply. Her breasts are peaked through her shirt, my shirt, and it nearly undoes me.

“I’m going to have a cold shower,” I say, quickly removing myself from her presence.

“Okay,” she says again.

I make a beeline for the bathroom and rip my clothes off, hopping in quickly. I lock the door in case she gets any more tempting ideas and tries to join me. I don’t think I could say no again.

The door handle doesn’t jiggle, and I kick myself for being disappointed. I let the frigid water cool my aching skin, but it doesn’t help. I take my cock in my fist and let my imagination wander, thinking of how close I got to being inside of her, to hearing her moans, to tasting her, kissing her again. I don’t have to stroke myself long—my orgasm comes swiftly. I stifle my sounds so she can’t hear.

It’s not satisfying, because I know how good it would have been to come inside of her rather than under the cold water blasting my head, with my hand wrapped around my cock instead of her body. But it did the trick. My shoulders release their tension and my lust ebbs as the cold water finally catches up, freezing me from the inside out. Though I still want her, at least I can think a little more clearly.

I grab a towel to dry off but stop short. Damn it, I forgot my bag out in the room. I’ll have to get it. Here we go. I wrap the towel around my waist and step through the door. Paige is already dressed, thank goodness, and as she turns, whatever she is about to say dies on her tongue.

“Now who’s playing dirty?” she asks, taking me in. And just like that, my dick swells again.

“I forgot my stuff,” I mumble, grabbing my duffle bag and turning back towards the bathroom as quickly as I can. I can’t meet her eyes before shutting the door. I hope she doesn’t think I did that on purpose because I most certainly didn’t. But I can’t find it in me to regret it because the look on her face could fuel my ego for years.

When I come out, fully clothed this time, she’s on the phone. I immediately go to her side, and she turns to me with tears streaking down her cheeks but a smile lights up her eyes. The amount of relief that rushes through me brings me to tears, my vision blurring with moisture. I grab her, pulling her in for a hug.

“Thank you, Dr. Barns,” she says into my chest. “I’ll be at the hospital by the end of the day. Thank you.”

She hangs up and wraps her arms around me, her body shaking.

“Leah made it through the night. She’s not awake yet, but she’s stable and they’re planning to remove her breathing tube.”

I pick her up and spin her around. “Oh, Paige, that’s the best news!”

She laughs as we twirl, and when I place her back on her feet, she looks up at me. My heart stops.

“Thank you,” she whispers, reaching to gently place her hands on either side of my face. When her lips touch mine, a current radiates through my whole body. She pulls away, but I can’t help it—I hold her arms and bring her close, kissing her again. It’s soft and light and way too brief.

“What was that for?” The words slip out of me in a whisper.

“It’s for you.” The memory of those words does something to my heart, jolting it into a gallop. She smiles and her eyes are clearer than they have been since we left Vancouver.

There’s also something else there—hesitation? Doubt? I don’t know what it means. She leaves my arms and we pack, getting back in the car to continue our drive.

The day goes byin a blur and I’m back in my own head, the fog of lust cleared. Adam was right, I’m glad we didn’t have sex this morning—I would have regretted it. Not just because Leah is in the hospital and Levi is alone, but because there’s still something unresolved between us. I can’t sleep with him—well, have sex with him—without clearing everything up first.

I have to know why he didn’t text me back.

This might be the quietest road trip of my life. Even my drive to Vancouver featured more car karaoke and talking to myself than this silent ride with Adam, music playing softly in the background. It’s not that it’s uncomfortable, but I don’t know what to say in this situation.

I think I’m in love with him.

In fact, I’ve never stopped being in love with him, and yet I’m so fucking mad at him for not texting me back, for not reaching out. I’m mad at myself for letting my pride stop me from reaching out again, but I couldn’t go through checking my phone every five seconds again for weeks, months, hoping to hear from him.

The disappointment destroyed me, and I’m too fragile right now to let that happen again. I’m 100 percent a coward.

I’m mad at Leah for getting into an accident, even though it wasn’t her fault.

I’m mad at my mom for dying.

But that kiss. It lit me up from the inside out.

Adam drops me off at the front entrance to the hospital before he parks. We know what room Leah is in, so he’ll be able to find us.

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