hand to his forehead.
His auburn hair, fresh from his shower, clung damply to his skin. I brushed it back, and it felt so good against my fingers that I did it again.
His eyes widened, and I jerked my hand away.
“You look like you’ve been in a fight,” I said.
He got to his feet again and shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just game day stuff. My body’s in worse shape than my face.”
“What do you mean? What did you do to your body?”
“It’s nothing,” he repeated. “Seriously, par for the course. Football’s a brutal game. I got off easy. One of the guys has a broken wrist and another one tore his ACL.”
I stared at him. “And that’s normal? Show me where else you hurt yourself.”
“The trainers already checked me out,” he said, but he turned his right side toward me and started to lift the hem of his shirt.
“Shit,” he said almost immediately, wincing and letting the shirt drop. “Let’s just leave it, okay?”
But I’d already seen the purple splotches, and I grabbed his T-shirt myself and lifted it.
It was the biggest bruise I’d ever seen, mottling his skin from his hip to his armpit. It looked worst right around his rib cage.
“Oh my God, Will. You’re sure someone looked at this? You didn’t crack a rib or anything?”
“No. It’s just sore.”
I let the shirt go and took a step back. “You should put some ice on that.”
“I would, usually. But I was excited after the game and didn’t feel like waiting around for an ice pack. I’m fine, Claire. I promise.”
I’d forgotten all about the game.
“Oh man, I suck. I haven’t even congratulated you or told you how awesome you were.”
The side of his mouth that wasn’t split lifted in a crooked smile. “Yeah?”
“Are you kidding? You were incredible. It was amazing to watch you.”
“So you had a good time?”
“I did. I didn’t expect to, but I really, really did.” I paused. “You were right, you know. It was like a concert. The excitement… the feeling of being connected to all those people in the stands… and something wonderful happening in front of you.” I paused again. “I’m ashamed I’ve never seen you play before. You heard my band so many times last year, and I didn’t go to any of your games.”
Will shook his head. “Like I told you before, I rode the bench last year. If I’d really wanted you there I would’ve asked—and you would’ve come.” He grinned. “You came to this game, didn’t you?”
Standing there in his white T-shirt and jeans, covered in cuts and bruises, Will was the picture of male strength. He looked like he’d been on a battlefield, coming home bloody but unbowed, his hard-muscled arms and powerful shoulders stretching the thin cotton of his shirt.
Of course, there were plenty of guys in the world with good bodies. There were plenty of guys who were good athletes. But not many of them had eyes like Will’s, deep green and so full of warmth and humor and kindness… and now, pleasure in the fact that I’d come to his game and enjoyed myself.
It occurred to me that if I stayed in his room for too much longer, there was a really good chance I’d forget my pledge in a hot second and kiss him. But that would be reckless and impulsive and NOT something a good friend does. How could I be sure I was acting from real feelings for Will, and not out of my fear of being alone or my desire to be part of a couple again?
“Do you have any ice packs?” I asked abruptly.
“Yeah, downstairs in the freezer.”
“I’ll go grab them. You should ice those bruises.”
Will shook his head and started for the door. “I’ll get them. Do you want something to drink while I’m down there?”
“No, I’m good. But we need Neosporin and Band-Aids, too.”
“Whatever I’ve got is in the bathroom.”
Once he was gone it was like a weight lifted from my heart. Without those green eyes gazing into mine, I could remember all the promises I’d made to myself.
All I had
His auburn hair, fresh from his shower, clung damply to his skin. I brushed it back, and it felt so good against my fingers that I did it again.
His eyes widened, and I jerked my hand away.
“You look like you’ve been in a fight,” I said.
He got to his feet again and shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just game day stuff. My body’s in worse shape than my face.”
“What do you mean? What did you do to your body?”
“It’s nothing,” he repeated. “Seriously, par for the course. Football’s a brutal game. I got off easy. One of the guys has a broken wrist and another one tore his ACL.”
I stared at him. “And that’s normal? Show me where else you hurt yourself.”
“The trainers already checked me out,” he said, but he turned his right side toward me and started to lift the hem of his shirt.
“Shit,” he said almost immediately, wincing and letting the shirt drop. “Let’s just leave it, okay?”
But I’d already seen the purple splotches, and I grabbed his T-shirt myself and lifted it.
It was the biggest bruise I’d ever seen, mottling his skin from his hip to his armpit. It looked worst right around his rib cage.
“Oh my God, Will. You’re sure someone looked at this? You didn’t crack a rib or anything?”
“No. It’s just sore.”
I let the shirt go and took a step back. “You should put some ice on that.”
“I would, usually. But I was excited after the game and didn’t feel like waiting around for an ice pack. I’m fine, Claire. I promise.”
I’d forgotten all about the game.
“Oh man, I suck. I haven’t even congratulated you or told you how awesome you were.”
The side of his mouth that wasn’t split lifted in a crooked smile. “Yeah?”
“Are you kidding? You were incredible. It was amazing to watch you.”
“So you had a good time?”
“I did. I didn’t expect to, but I really, really did.” I paused. “You were right, you know. It was like a concert. The excitement… the feeling of being connected to all those people in the stands… and something wonderful happening in front of you.” I paused again. “I’m ashamed I’ve never seen you play before. You heard my band so many times last year, and I didn’t go to any of your games.”
Will shook his head. “Like I told you before, I rode the bench last year. If I’d really wanted you there I would’ve asked—and you would’ve come.” He grinned. “You came to this game, didn’t you?”
Standing there in his white T-shirt and jeans, covered in cuts and bruises, Will was the picture of male strength. He looked like he’d been on a battlefield, coming home bloody but unbowed, his hard-muscled arms and powerful shoulders stretching the thin cotton of his shirt.
Of course, there were plenty of guys in the world with good bodies. There were plenty of guys who were good athletes. But not many of them had eyes like Will’s, deep green and so full of warmth and humor and kindness… and now, pleasure in the fact that I’d come to his game and enjoyed myself.
It occurred to me that if I stayed in his room for too much longer, there was a really good chance I’d forget my pledge in a hot second and kiss him. But that would be reckless and impulsive and NOT something a good friend does. How could I be sure I was acting from real feelings for Will, and not out of my fear of being alone or my desire to be part of a couple again?
“Do you have any ice packs?” I asked abruptly.
“Yeah, downstairs in the freezer.”
“I’ll go grab them. You should ice those bruises.”
Will shook his head and started for the door. “I’ll get them. Do you want something to drink while I’m down there?”
“No, I’m good. But we need Neosporin and Band-Aids, too.”
“Whatever I’ve got is in the bathroom.”
Once he was gone it was like a weight lifted from my heart. Without those green eyes gazing into mine, I could remember all the promises I’d made to myself.
All I had
Similar Books
