Page 32

JORDAN

O nce Price left, leaving Preston and I alone, it felt like the walls were closing in on me. Seeing Preston so vulnerable caused an uncomfortable pang in my chest where I wanted to do anything to make him feel better. Literally anything.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he said, his voice barely audible. “You’re looking at me like I’m gonna break. I’m not.”

“I know you’re not.” I leaned against the farthest wall from him, taking in the curls resting against his forehead and the dent between his brows. A slight blush rushed up his neck and face, and I sighed. “I know what you need.”

“Do you? Because I’m not sure I even fucking know.” He closed his eyes and leaned back farther into the pillow, exhaustion overtaking every one of his features.

It was ten at night—the last four hours a complete blur. The sweater and slacks he wore were long gone, my black dress the only reminder that we’d been on a date tonight. Something we really hadn’t even begun to discuss.

The caretaker in me roared to life, assessing his mood and expression and adjusting to fit whatever he needed. It was clear he wanted me to stay with him but for how long? And why?

“Okay, Charming, you want me to spend the night with you?”

He blinked before he studied his wrist. It wasn’t that interesting so he definitely avoided my eyes. “Only if you’re up for it. I’m sure you need sleep and are tired.”

“God, could you be more of a lying liar?”

“What?” His eyes flashed.

“You’re full of shit. You want me to stay. Say it.”

“Of course I want you to stay, but I don’t want to freak you out. You’re one comment away from running from me, and I just can’t… I don’t want to deal with that.”

He ran his hands over his face, groaning, and I felt like shit.

He wasn’t exactly wrong, but I hated causing him any stress. My chest did that aching thing again, and I pushed off the wall and scooted his mom’s former chair closer to him. “Let’s play odds.”

“Right fucking now?” Preston side-eyed me, his voice laced with disbelief.

I grinned, scooting closer in the chair I’d just dragged toward his bed. “Yes, right now. You need to stop sulking, Charming. And I’m pretty sure I’m the perfect distraction.”

His lips twitched, a reluctant smile threatening to break through his gloom. “I mean, you are a distraction. Can’t figure out if it’s the best or worst kind, if I’m being honest. Now what’s the range?”

“One to ten. I’ll start easy.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Odds you’ll wear a hospital gown backward for an hour tomorrow, so it looks like you’re rocking a superhero cape?”

Preston blinked, his expression torn between disbelief and amusement. “You’re kidding. ”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” I raised a brow, giving him my best challenge-me smirk.

“Three,” he said, shaking his head.

“Three it is. Ready? Three, two, one?—”

“Seven,” he said, right when I yelled “six.”

“Damn, that would’ve been funny as hell. I would’ve loved to see what the nurses would’ve done with your dick out.”

Preston laughed, running a hand through his messy curls. “You are a maniac. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but you love me anyway.” I winked, letting the humor in my voice fill the room. His reluctant laugh warmed the space between us, easing the tension radiating from him. This was definitely the right move. I needed to distract him from the night, from his pain, from everything.

“Your turn,” I prompted, sitting back and crossing my arms. “Hit me but make it good.”

Preston’s gaze flicked to mine, a hint of mischief sparking in his eyes. “Alright. Odds you’ll sing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ at full volume the next time we’re in public together.”

“Oh, come on, I’m practically a professional at embarrassing myself. Give me something harder.” I smirked. “Fine. One to five.”

“One to five?” He raised a brow, clearly impressed.

“What can I say? I’m feeling bold.” I gestured for him to count us down.

“Three, two, one?—”

“Four,” we both said in unison.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Looks like you’re getting a front-row seat to my Freddie Mercury impression soon, Charming.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into an actual smile this time, and my chest warmed. He lifted his arm, jutting his chin toward me. “Come here. ”

I shivered at the command and the need in his voice.

There was no world where I wouldn’t listen to him.

After watching him get so sick and be taken to surgery, one thing was clear—I was his.

He was mine. I had no idea what that meant, and I was sure my fear and baggage would catch up with me at some point and freak me the hell out, but for now, I’d enjoy the moment. “You want to cuddle me or something?”

“Or something.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I hate knowing you were scared and crying. I need to hold you.”

Fuck. Those feelings for him doubled and tripled in size as I sat on the side of his bed and laid on his chest. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around me, his touch one of comfort and desperation.

He breathed me in deep before his muscles relaxed.

“Thank you for the game. Thank you for tonight. Thank you for being you.”

He gripped me hard, his fingers digging into my hip as I spooned his side.

His voice was thick with emotion, and I played with his chest, running my fingers back and forth over it.

He hummed and toyed with the ends of my hair, not quite saying anything, but our breathing synced, and that was enough.

His brother referred to me as his girlfriend—a term I had never used once in my life.

Preston also hadn’t brought it up, and I wasn’t sure I should. Yet the word kept popping in my mind.

Was I his girlfriend? Did he want that? Did it matter?

“Preston?” I asked, suddenly nervous. The lights were dim, and it was late, our bodies pressed together in the small hospital bed. The bedsheet did nothing for warmth, but his body radiated heat against mine.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Price called me your girlfriend.”

He tensed but only for a second. “Ignore him. My idiot twin brother causes a lot of shit with his mouth. Honestly, I should hit him the next chance I get. ”

I frowned. That sounded like he didn’t want it to be true, and that was stupid. I hated the shame and worry growing in my gut. I felt how he felt for me so I tried again. “Do you not want me to be?”

“We’ve gone on a single date, hell, not even a real one. We went on a quarter of one.” He laughed and kissed the top of my head. “There is no world where I’m asking you for that, not when we haven’t gone on a real date. Plus, I know you hate labels. Don’t worry about Price. He’s annoying.”

“Okay, yeah.” I chewed my lip, hating how he dismissed it so freely. He never asked me how I felt about it, if I wanted it or not. Did I?

Yes.

No.

Yes.

“Ignore him, seriously.” Preston tilted my chin up, his eyes crinkling on the sides.

“We’re taking this slow. There is no pressure or rush.

” He leaned forward and kissed me, his lips pressing against mine in the softest, gentlest kiss ever.

My toes curled in my boots at how sweet it was, and if I was standing, I was pretty sure my knees would give out.

“I am so glad you’re here,” he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against mine. “Price would’ve annoyed me, and I’m sorry—did you see my parents? What the fuck was that hand-holding hotel thing?”

Laughing, I adjusted my body against his so I could rest my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, they are definitely banging, Charming. They might be getting a divorce, but they are enjoying bennies while they figure it out.”

“I hate that sentence so much.”

“Try to sleep, honey. Don’t worry about your parents, brother, the team, or me. That can all come tomorrow. Tonight, rest your body, okay? ”

“You’ll stay with me all night?”

“They’ll have to physically remove me from the property. That is the only way they’ll get rid of me, and I’m really fast and scrappy. I’d put up a good fight.”

Preston chuckled deeply. “God, I love you.”

I knew he meant it as a friend, as a person in his corner. Logan, Preston, and I said it to each other all the time in a friendly, got-your-back sorta way. This was no different than that, and I was proud of myself for not freaking out. This was progress, and I couldn’t wait to tell Logan.

One thing was clear after all this—I loved him more than as a friend.

Watching him go into the surgery, imagining a world without him?

It changed a part of my soul. All the hypothetical scenarios played out, and the truth hit me in the face.

I was in love with him. I might be terrified, but I couldn’t deny the fact I wanted all of him.

It wasn’t the time to tell him, no, not right after surgery.

I was on adrenaline, but I had to find the right time to share I felt more.

I smiled, proud and happy that I wasn’t completely broken.

We snuggled, our bodies pressed up against each other, and we fell asleep.

We woke up to the sterile sunlight streaming through the blinds, the telltale hum of hospital monitors, and the faint buzz of nurses chatting in the hallway.

My back ached from the awkward position of sleeping in the hospital bed beside Preston, but the warmth of his arm draped over me kept me rooted in place.

His steady breathing tickled the top of my head, and for a moment, I didn’t want to move.

But the world waited and so did the house we shared—and, apparently, Preston’s family .

Preston stirred, his fingers grazing my arm as he let out a low groan. “What time is it?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

I glanced at the wall clock. “Just past eight. Price and your parents are probably raiding our fridge by now.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against my temple. “Sounds about right. You hanging around for the chaos?”