Page 46 of Frozen Flames

“Oh no, I crashed my car. It won’t reverse, Harv!”

I’m laughing as I see her on the screen, desperately trying to finish the first lap of the race. I grab her console, and when our hands touch, my eyes dart to hers. She blushes and looks away immediately, and once again in Claire’s company, my dick decides to rise. And it’s not that easy to hide, since I can’t just walk away and readjust myself.

I learn forward in my chair, reversing the car for her. “There you go.” I hand her the console back, making sure not to touch her again.

But I don’t forget the look in her eyes.

Her eyes—they’re so brown, so dark, I don’t even know how to describe them. And her soul, her spirit? It’s…

She’s the most beautiful person deep within that I’ve ever met.

She has a good heart, and she seems to care and want to help. I don’t know many people who would do that without expecting something in return.

Except Gemma, of course, and my family. They’ve given me their everything, including their time and support and money.

What’s wrong with me, seriously?

I shouldn’t be focusing on Claire and how she is when I have Gemma, who loves me, takes care of me, and would do anything for me.

I’m mad because she broke her promise and rode again—with her boss. That’s what enrages me. But I’m sure with time, I’ll let it go.

Claire made us dinner tonight—spaghetti and meatballs.

The music is on as she washes the dishes afterward, handing me a dish towel to help.

There’s something about this woman. Even in scrubs, with her hair pinned up, she’s the epitome of grace.

No matter how much I want to focus on Gemma and Gemma only, Claire keeps occupying a fuck ton of my thoughts.

I feel guilty about it, horrible, yet my mind keeps playing these tricks on me, and I’m useless against their tactics.

She twirls around the kitchen, putting glasses away, until she comes back and throws the dish towel around my neck, her mouth a little closer to mine as she sings in front of me.

Her eyes are twinkling with a joy I can’t fathom.

I would do anything to get a taste of what she’s on.

Somehow as I watch her enjoy herself, all I can think of is that Claire doesn’t seem like the type that would break her promises. Or do all the things that Gemma’s probably been doing with her boss.

But who am I to judge, seriously, when I’m in the kitchen entertaining my nurse?

Henrik would shake his head and bust my balls for hurting Gemma. I know he’s not keen on Claire, but that’s only because he sees it from Gem’s perspective.

She leans forward, closer to me. Her voice sounds lovely, and her tits are right in my face.

Fuck.

I’m dying.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard since the accident. Maybe it’s the progress I’m making or maybe it’s Claire.

“Harv…sing with me.” It’s hard to decipher if she’s teasing me or just being her lively self.

I think of Gemma…of her words, of my own broken promises, and most of all, of the melancholy on her face last night when she told me how much I’ve hurt her.

I think of my quiet, mysterious, hot Gemma.

“Claire, you should go.”

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