Page 33 of After All

“You probably haven’t covered all of that in school yet, hu—” His question was cut off by a big yawn.

She nodded. “Nope, haven’t covered that yet.” True enough. Though if she’d stayed in school, she might have. Hopefully Scott knew nothing about nursing school curriculum.

“Proud of you,” he said, his eyes sliding shut.

She stared at him. “What?” she asked.

“Proud of you. And school.”

Ah, shit. Why’d he have to say that?

“I love that you want to take care of other people, even though people have kind of sucked about taking care of you. You haven’t let that make you hard.”

Her heart slammed against her chest and she couldn’t breathe for a second. The hell if she hadn’t. She had definitely let her lack of caregivers make her hard and cynical. The meds were making him a little goofy. Maybe. Or he was just super tired. Possibly. But that had sounded really sincere. And exactly like the kind of thing Scott would think.

“Yeah, well,” she managed, looking for a way to distract him. “Don’t know how well I’m doing here. I wasn’t as focused on her instructions yesterday as I should have been.”

“Oh?” His eyes hadn’t opened again.

That could work in her favor too. He couldn’t concentrate on the ins and outs of her nursing program if he was sleepy.

“Your wound is really close to a part of your body I’mveryinterested in,” she said. “My gaze might have wandered.”

His eyebrows pulled together even though his eyes stayed shut. “I need to rest. Talking about my cock, and your interest in it, isn’t very relaxing.”

She laughed and dropped her arms. He was distracted now. “Okay, we’ll talk about it after your nap. Do you need anything?”

“You.”

Her heart skipped.

“In normal clothes.”

Oh. She sighed.

“Can’t fall asleep if I know you’re sitting over there with your wet, bare pussy on my chair.”

Geez, even if he’d partially slurred some of those words, they worked to make her body pulse with desire.

“Fine. But if I can’t talk about your cock and say things like ‘fuck me’, you can’t say pussy,” she told him.

That stirred him a bit and he shifted again. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You can’t say ‘pussy’ either.”

She smiled. “You like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Noted.”

“Trouble,” he murmured.

But a moment later, he was asleep.

Peyton stood looking at him—or rather, staring at him like a needy little girl with a gigantic crush—for just long enough to feel creepy. But man, he was gorgeous. Big, strong, confident. And for some reason, he really liked her.

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