Page 96 of Heartbreak Hockey

Chapter19

Fucked

Mercy’s Log

MERCY

Iam so fucked I’ve only just discovered the meaning of fucked. I see all the warnings flashing like a tacky neon sign. I’ve ignored them all and walked straight into hell with him. I’m supposed to be the responsible one, stopping us from making dumb mistakes like this. Instead, I have a new understanding of Dad. This is why he does it. Love. A feeling so powerful it makes smart men foolish and foolish men numb to anything but the object of their desire.

All thoughts have been sucked from my head. All feeling has been torn from my limbs.

There’s just him.

* * *

Iwasn’t gonna bother with sleep, but I remembered the stamina of young people and realized it could be four in the morning before he stumbles in.

My prediction isn’t far off. The door to the condo is jostled open at three am. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I rub my face, and a foreign feeling grows in my chest. I think it might be fucking giddiness. I spring from half-asleep to fully awake.

He’s here.

Or maybe a robber, I guess.

I walk out to the dark entryway and recognize Jack’s frame immediately via the scant light shining through the windows. He stops to stare at me and when he takes a step, he trips over air.

That’s my drunk boyfriend right there.

I swoop in to catch him. “Hey, Merc,” he says. “I missed you and I’m horny.”

He’s still got the sex drive of a teenager. “Can you find the way to my room without killing yourself, baby?”

“Yeah-huh. I’m not that drunk.”

“Recite the alphabet backward.”

“No one can do that even when they’re stone-cold sober. It’s a dumb test.”

“Z,Y,X,W—”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Of course, you can because you’re you. I’m a little drunk, but I can find my way to your bed. Never have any problems with that.” He raises a cocky brow and gives the Elvis lip-hitch.

I give him a nice smack to his ass for good measure. “Go.”

Jack lets out a raspy chuckle and then heads in the direction of the bedroom, but almost slams into the wall two steps later. He catches himself in time—thank God for his athletic reflexes—laughing hysterically at himself as he carries on.

I gather water, juice, and Advil.

He’s naked in my bed by the time I make it back to my room, sitting up with the lamp on, hands pillowed behind his head, brimming with a goofball smile. He is an overgrown goofball.Adorable.Well, shit. I must be gone for him if I’m labeling him adorable. I set what I’ve brought on the nightstand next to him, he strokes his cock.

I cross my arms. “Getting started without me?”

“You’re taking too long,” he whines.

“Maybe I’ll just watch.”

“Yeah? You wanna show, Merc?”

He spreads his legs and strokes with more fervor. Fuck. He’s too delicious not to touch. “That’s enough.”