Page 49

Reaching the coffee maker, Jack grabs himself a cup and begins pouring. He looks over his shoulder at my half-finished cup. “I don’t know how you can take that without at least a drop of milk.”

“Need the caffeine kick badly. And if all I’m allowed is one cup a day, then I’m making the most of it,” I reply, another yawn overtaking my body.

Maybe it was because his left side was away from me when he walked into the kitchen, but the second he turns to face me fully, I see it. The bruise across his jawline.

Guilt tears through me.

“Jack, what’s that on your jaw?” I whisper.

Heading over to the fridge, he fetches out the milk and pours a small amount into his cup. “Oh yeah.” He chuckles. “So, Tyler knows.”

I climb off the stool and approach him as he stands with his back against the fridge. “This is all my fault.” I inspect the purple bruise more closely and notice a small cut too. “Is it painful?”

Jack shakes his head as he looks down at me.

“Did you hit him back?”

“No. Tempting as it was.”

I drag a hand down my face and pause over my eyes. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Like I said the first time, Hart”—Jack wraps his palm around mine and pulls my hand away—“who gives a fuck what he thinks? Has he messaged you this morning?”

I pause and think over my recent texts. Only one from my brother, talking about the national squad announcement dates. “No. He hasn’t actually.”

Jack smiles. “I told him to leave you the fuck alone.”

“I’m starting to feel like a broken record. All I seem to do is thank you.” I blow out a breath.

He takes a sip of coffee and sets his cup down beside him. There’s an entire apartment behind me, yet I still haven’t stepped away from him.

Finally, I turn to move away and head for the hallway. “I have something that might help with the bruising.”

When I reach my bathroom and begin searching through the contents of my medical bag, I find what I’m looking for.

“What’s that?” Jack’s voice shocks me, and I turn around to find him standing in the doorway, hand braced on the frame above his head. His eyes briefly fall to my bare legs since I’m only wearing my sleep set and a loosely tied robe.

“Arnica cream.” I hold the tube up to him. “Mom always swore by this when we were kids. It helps the healing process and brings the bruising out faster.” Unscrewing the lid, I squeeze a small amount onto my forefinger and then cringe. “I guess you don’t need me to apply it for you like she did for me.” I laugh.

Jack’s arm drops to his side as he steps into the bathroom, and I back up a couple of paces.

“If you were my girlfriend, would you then?”

I look down at the cream and then back up at him. “Perhaps.” Butterflies swirl in my stomach at the thought.

Jack’s eyes fall to my mouth and then finger as he stands right in front of me. “No harm in getting in some more practice then, is there?”

I reach up and begin applying the cream to his bruise, being careful to avoid the small cut in the center. “I never realized how tall you actually are,” I muse.

In a split second, Jack sets my ass on the counter.

“Is that easier?” he asks, his eyes planted firmly on mine.

Every muscle in my body contracts when he steps forward a few more inches and stands between my legs.

“Much,” I whisper.

His hands are braced on either side of me, and I feel the way his breath fans my face. If I closed my eyes, every nerve in my body could sense how close he was. Somehow, I want him closer.