Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
When she's satisfied I'm not about to faceplant, she helps me out of the ugly non-slip hospital socks and then grabs the plastic bag they dumped all my shit into.
"You want to put your pants on here or in the bathroom?" she asks, holding the bag out with two fingers.
I shoot her the most exaggerated smirk I can manage. "You afraid of what you might see?"
She rolls her eyes. "It's nothing I haven't seen before. You guys love walking around the facility naked."
She's not wrong. My asshole teammates do wander around bare-ass naked a lot. But this is different because she's never seen me naked. I knew better than to let that happen. Hiding an erection under clothes is one thing. Hiding the motherfucker when he's standing straight up and staring her in the face is another.
I have her turn and then slip into my pants fast, if only to prove I can do it without passing out. I leave the hospital gown in place since I have no shirt, and it's freezing out.
She hovers a step away the whole time, her eyes fixed on the door like she expects the nurse to barge in at any moment and catch us in the middle of some kind of kinky scene.
I finish tying my shoes and stretch experimentally. No dizziness. No trouble breathing. A win, by all accounts…except for the fact that my skin still feels like it's on fire and my brain is approximately three steps behind my mouth.
We walk the hallway together, Dani's hand hovering at my back, not quite touching, but I can feel the heat of her anyway. She checks the discharge papers, reading every word, and I catch her lips moving as she silently recites the warnings to herself.
I don't think she realizes she does it. I do, because I've spent the last three months memorizing every single one of her quirks. Hell, I've spent them memorizing every little thing about her.
I'm not even sure obsessed is the word for it, at this point. It's whatever comes after that.
We reach the exit, and she glances at me, uncertainty flickering across her angelic face. "You okay to make it to the car?"
"I'm okay as long as you don't make me eat any more of your death fudge," I joke, but then regret it because her face falls just a little.
"Hey," I say, pausing before the glass doors. "I'm just kidding. I'm fine. You didn't do anything wrong. And if I have to choose, I'd rather die eating your fudge than live without it."
She snorts. "You are so full of shit."
"Maybe," I admit, "but you like me anyway."
That finally gets a real smile out of her, and I feel like I've just scored from center ice.
She takes a deep breath, then gestures to the parking lot. "Let's get you home before I have to carry you."
I follow her out into the frigid night, my mind spinning with plans.
Dani Frost. Alone. At my place.
This has potential.
By the time Dani unlocks her car, my eyelids are drooping and my skin is half-crawling off my body, but my brain is wired like I mainlined espresso. The air outside is subzero, sharp enough to freeze my thoughts mid-sentence, but I let it hit my face, hoping it keeps me functioning a little longer. I need to be sharp if I'm going to wrangle her into my bed.
She guides me into the passenger seat, cranking the heater before she even buckles herself in. The car smells like her: apples, vanilla, maybe a little lemon-scented Lysol like she uses on the PT tables.
"Seatbelt," she says, her voice firm.
I buckle up, then side-eye her with what I hope is a devastatingly wounded expression. "So what's the plan? You dropping me at home and letting me die all alone?"
She's so busy checking the rearview, she doesn't even see my dramatic expression. "I was planning on getting you home, setting you up with water and Gatorade, and then calling your brother to come babysit you."
I try to look offended, which is tough when I'm smiling like an idiot. "Noah is just going to put me on speakerphone and lecture me while eating donuts. He's working a case."
He's a homicide detective for Chicago PD. He's always working a case.
She pulls out of the parking lot with the silent, grim determination of a woman who's seen too many men fail to follow basic aftercare instructions.
"You should stay with me," I suggest, casual as can be.
Her eyes snap to mine, wide and startled, before she recovers. "You're high as a kite."
"Not that high. Besides, I'm not supposed to be alone, right? What if I go into shock? What if I can't reach my phone? What if I accidentally eat more fudge?"
She snorts, but she can't hide her smile. "You're impossible."
I want to tell her that I'm desperate because she's the best thing that's ever happened to me, but I also don't want to scare her off. She's skittish as hell…and she has no idea that I'm fucking head over heels for her. I should ease her into it, right?