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“You don’t get it, and I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to be your girlfriend.” I sink further into the pillow and turn my head away from him.
“Tori,” he breathes.
“I need to get some sleep, Bash.” I close my eyes and roll onto my side, curling up with the pillow.
He gets up from the bed, the mattress shifting from his weight. “I’ll be on the other side of the door. If you need me, just call. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re not indebted to me, Bash. It’s not necessary for you to stay here while I sleep. Nothing exciting is going to happen this afternoon. Why don’t you go home and get a shower or do whatever it is you would do on the weekend.”
“I’m not leaving you.” I look over at him just as he pushes his hands onto his hips, the muscles flexing in his arms. “But a shower does sound good.”
“Go ahead.” I wave my hand toward the door, fighting off what he’s doing to my body. “You’re free to go and live your life.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I can have someone bring me clothes if you’re okay with me taking a shower here.”
Thinking it over for a second, I nod. “That’s fine. I can’t have you stinking up my place. But you should stop acting like the prince you are and go get your clothes.”
“Fine, but I won’t be gone long.” He smiles at me. “I’m serious, Tori. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, Bash, but that doesn’t mean a thing. You feel bad for me. That’s the only reason you’re here right now. I know you’re a good person, eve
n if the things you did to me were shitty. But I also know that your conscience is why you are helping me out.”
He glances down at the floor, annoyed. “Is that so? How do you figure?”
“You should’ve caught the football that knocked me on my ass, and now you feel bad about it. If you were on your game, it never would’ve hit me, and we wouldn’t be here right now.”
“My God, woman. You’re such a smart ass.” He grins so wide it reaches up to his eyes this time. “Clay overthrew the ball. It had nothing to do with my game. And, yes, maybe I do feel bad about what happened, but I am not the one who hit you. I’ve been through this before. You might not want me to stay, but if you have any complications or your condition worsens, you will wish you had someone to help you. Trust me. You will not care who is here with you if that time comes because it fucking sucks.”
“Go take a shower,” I say, waving him off. “I will summon you when I’m awake.”
“You will summon me?” He smirks, shaking his head.
“Yeah, like a genie in a bottle. Now go.” I point at the door.
He smiles and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Get some sleep, beautiful.”
We share a quick moment before he walks out of my room, closing the door behind him. I can breathe now that he’s gone. How am I supposed to make it two more days with Bash killing me with kindness? There’s no way I will be able to control myself that long—not when he’s showing me this side of him. The side I have missed.
Chapter 6
Bash
With Tori fast asleep, I have no idea how much time I have before she wakes up. I want to be there when she opens her eyes, so I need to get my ass in gear. But I’m dragging just as much if not more than Tori. Drinking most of the night and then sleeping on a hard couch was rough. My back aches, and I’ve had a massive migraine since this morning.
Tori was right about one thing. I need a shower. And a change of clothes. Power walking through campus, I zip past the SAC and the business and law schools, before making my way toward the other side of campus.
When I’m crossing the street at the light, Finch stops me almost dead in my tracks, calling out my name. I slow my pace until he catches up to me.
“Bash, wait up!” Finch yells behind me, his sneakers hitting the pavement with a loud thud. He cups my shoulder with his big hand, bringing me to a halt.
I turn to face him as he blows out a puff of air. He hunches over, his palms flat on his thighs, as he attempts to catch his breath. He looks as though he just ran a marathon, beads of sweat rolling off his forehead and down his face.
“Dude, you look like you’re about to pass out. Where are you coming from?”
“Coach wanted me to get some running in today.”
Finch pulls the black cutoff shirt over his head and wipes his forehead with it. “This training is killer,” he says, slinging his shirt around his neck. “Coach is riding me hard.”
