Page 70 of Sweet Harmony

“So, you regretthat Harrison is the only guy you’ve slept with?” Kira said.

Addiehesitated. “I don’t – I mean, obviously I love Harrison and want tospend the rest of my life with him, but there might be a little bitof – not regret – but more curiosity about what other guys may ormay not be like in bed.”

“You ready toshare who you have a dirty little crush on yet, Addie-pants?” Gracesaid with a grin.

Addison pulledat the pearls around her neck. “I already told you, no one inparticular.”

“Okay, Addie,whatever you say.” Grace pointed her beer bottle at Kira. “Honey,we love you and we want what’s best for you. Just make sure youthink long and hard about any decisions you make regarding Connor,okay?”

“I will,” Kirasaid. “Stop worrying, Gracie. I’m not thinking that Connor isfalling for me or something like that. He wouldn’t even let me helphim tonight. The only reason we were going to hang out tonight wasbecause of the sex stuff. Once he knew that was off the table, hedidn’t want me anywhere near him. Those aren’t the actions of a guycrushing on a girl.”

“Maybe,”Addison said. “Or maybe he just didn’t want you to see him in pain.It’s like the guy at the game said. Some guys are super weird aboutwomen seeing them in pain. Makes them think they’ve lost their mancard or something.”

Addison’s phonebuzzed and she checked it before bouncing to her feet. “I have togo. My mom just got a migraine and Dad is at his woodworking club.If she needs to go to the hospital, I’ll need to drive her.”

“Your poormom,” Kira said. “Give her our love.”

“I will.” Addiegave them a distracted smile before leaving. The front doorslammed, and Grace gave Kira another shrewd look.

“Now that it’sjust you and me, is there anything else you want to say?”

“Nope,” Kirasaid. “I don’t have feelings for Connor, and he doesn’t havefeelings for me.”

Grace drank thelast of her beer. “If you say so, Kira-bear.”

ChapterThirteen

Shit. He was introuble. He knew it even before he was fully awake. Knew it evenbefore he threw the covers back and saw the swollen purple messthat used to be his right knee.

He sat up,groaning loudly when it sent fire radiating from his knee down tohis toes. He grabbed the pill bottle from his nightstand andmuttered a curse. He’d taken the last leftover Percocet last night.It had done a great job of dulling the pain and allowing him to getsome sleep, but now the agony had roared back to life, even worsethan last night. Hell, had he been in this much pain since thesurgery?

Shit. Doublefucking shit.

Panic surgedthrough him. What if he’d torn the ligaments again? What if he’dcompletely destroyed his knee and this time, they couldn’t put himback together again like Humpty Dumpty? He could forget about evenplaying baseball recreationally. Hell, he’d be fucking lucky if hedidn’t have to use a cane for the rest of his life.

The panic madethe pain worse, made his knee throb and pulse until he thought hemight puke. He leaned back against the headboard, taking shallowbreaths and waiting for the churning in his guts to settle.

Fuck, he reallyneeded to take a piss. Moving slowly and carefully, holding hisright leg steady with both hands just below his knee, he swung hislegs over the side of the bed. Just bending his knee sent fresh newagony through his leg up to his hip and he grabbed the pillow andburied his face in it to muffle his scream of pain.

Sweating,groaning under his breath, he lifted his right leg back onto thebed before reaching with a shaking hand for the bottle of Tylenol.He took four, chasing them down with a sip of water. The Tylenolmight, if he was lucky, dull the pain enough for him to at leastnot scream when he bent his knee, but he couldn’t walk on it. Heknew that without a doubt.

He needed toget his ass to the hospital and find out how much damage thatasshole Daniel had done to him.

It wasn’t doneon purpose.

No, maybe not,but he wasn’t exactly feeling charitable this morning. Because ofDaniel, the likelihood of him pissing his own damn bed washigh.

He grabbed hisphone and then hesitated. Who the fuck could he call? If he calledhis parents, it would take them at least forty minutes to an hourto get here and forgetting his need to take a piss, Connor wasn’tsure he could stand the pain for that long. If he didn’t get to thehospital soon and get some goddamn pain medication, he’d goinsane.

Call Kira.

He took a deepbreath and stared at his knee. He was wearing just a pair of boxersand even the thought of trying to get pants on past his swollen,angry knee made him want to vomit. Which meant that if he calledKira, she’d see his knee, see the scars from his surgery. She’dstart asking questions and –

Who fuckingcares! The alternative is calling your parents and then lying in apool of pure agony and your own piss while you wait for them toshow up. Is that what you want?

Nope.Definitely not. And if he was being truthful, he wanted to callKira. Wanted the comfort of her soft voice and hands. Even if itmeant having to tell her about the accident and the surgery.

His fingerstrembling, he hit her number. She answered after only one ring, hervoice a bit raspy. “Hey, Connor.”

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