Page 60 of Broken

I smirk at the wall that separates me from my man. “He oozes testosterone, Diana.”

“If youdidget him between the sheets, he’d be so ready to explode, you wouldn’t have to worry about being inexperienced,” she says wryly. “Not that it’d be much fun for you.”

“I’ll take one for the team this time.”

“Big of you,” she drawls. “Sex isn’t a cure—you were right about that.”

“I know.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” I huff. “Man, he’s gorgeous. His pictures don’t do him justice. Even covered in blood, he was fine?—”

“Weirdo.”

“Don’t yuck my yum. He must work out a lot.”

“Sounds like you.”

“I’m not muscly. Not anymore.”

“Give it time, honey.”

Though I pout, I accept her words as the fact they are. It’s already a miracle that I’m lying under his roof. My muscles will come back eventually.

“He had those veins running down his biceps?—”

“Yum, but equally, wouldn’t they be pumped up because he was whipping himself, soeww?”

“Stop being rational.” He’s not mega stacked but plenty enough for my overactive imagination.

“It’s a failing of mine. Why on earth he puts himself through that?—”

Before I can tell her that I don’t get it either, I hear a shout.

Immediately, I bolt upright, ignoring the dots dancing at the peripheries of my vision.

“What was that?” Diana demands.

“You heard it?”

“Yeah.”

“It sounded like a nightmare. I should go see if he’s?—”

“Don’t check on him! What if he dreams he’s back in…”

“Oran,” I provide when she doesn’t finish the sentence.

“He could think you’re his captor. He might hurt you.”

“I can’t let him suffer.”

“Andrea!”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that.”

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