Page 139 of Vicious Saint
“I do not.”
Blowing out a breath, I make my way toward the kitchen. “Whatever you say.”
My hand grips the refrigerator handle when she blurts out, “Hey…were you?” I side eye her and she pauses, shaking her head. “Nevermind.”
“Don’t hold back now, Jimi.” I pull open the door, snatching two bottles of water. “Looks like we’ll be spending a lot more time together.”
Hendrix flings the blanket off her, legs swinging over the side of the bed. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
“Our parents are stuck in D.C. till Wednesday.”
“Oh, hell no.” She reaches for her phone, already dialing, then curses when it goes to voicemail. “Ughhh! This is bullshit.”
I stroll over to her, arms wide. “And here I am thinking we were bonding.”
“Shut up, Saint.”
“Not a morning person, I see.” Throwing her the bottle, I add, “Duly noted. Now drink up, you look like you have a hangover.”
She catches it with two hands. “Yeah. My head feels like a ton of bricks.”
My gaze trails to my side of the bed, and guilt gnaws at my insides, but not for the reason it should be.
“So much for me softening the blow, huh.”
After a long sip of water, Hendrix stands. “It’s not from the fall, Saint, I had the headache before.” She looks as though she wants to say something else, but tilts her chin instead. “What’s got you so chipper?”
Short list, Jimi. Your delicious cunt being at the tippy top.
“First day back at practice. So I get to hit people.”
She quirks a brow. “Aren’t quarterbacks the ones who get hit?”
“Not when you’re me.”
“So damn full of yourself,” she grumbles, moving past me.
“Where you going?”
“I need a shower.”
The crack from my neck when I twist it does nothing to thwart my need to join her. Touch the forbidden fruit between her legs again.
But I’m no longer drunk, Hendrix is no longer sleeping, and judging by how she’s guzzling the bottle of water, I’d say her mouth is working too.
“Use the bath towels on the bottom shelf in the closet, not the top one.”
She halts her steps, turning to face me with a grin. “Why not the top ones?”
“Those are mine.”
“Well, then maybe I’ll use one ofyours.”
“I know what you’re doing and it isn’t gonna work.”
“What?” She takes a long, dramatic step forward. “I’m just trying to take a shower.”
“Jimi.”
