Page 31 of Exes and Oh Hell No

Not at all.

My self-control lasts all of three seconds before I glance over at him again.

Big mistake.

The sweatpants situation is… a problem.

My lips part, breathing suddenly difficult, and I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from making a sound.

But a whimper still escapes.

Oh my God.

Horrified, I snap my head to the front window, staring out at the passing scenery, praying he didn’t hear it.

“Harper?” His voice is deep, low, and filled with something I can’t decipher.

Shit.

I don’t look at him. “What?”

A long beat of silence stretches between us.

“You don’t have to resist me taking care of you,” he says quietly. “It’s not a sign of weakness. Or that you’re incompetent or incapable.”

My eyes snap to his.

He’s intently watching me, his focus unwavering.

“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe because my mom always depended on my dad. When he had a heart attack last year, she… fell apart.”

I swallow hard, my throat tight.

“Physically, she was fine. But mentally? I knew she didn’t think she could survive without him.”

Ford’s hand wraps around mine, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry.”

His voice is thick, laced with emotion. “I… well, Gram told me your dad was in the hospital.” He looks at the road. “It was the middle of the season, and I couldn’t?—”

“I didn’t expect you to.” A fiery blush rises. “I mean, we weren’t together and….”

“I should’ve called.” The concern in his eyes nearly undoes me. “To see how you were.”

He’s warm and solid.

Safe.

My body leans toward his like it’s natural.

Like he’s still my anchor.

Like I could just sink into him.

No.

At the last second, I force my back straight and turn away, staring out the window.

My breathing is ragged.

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