Page 27 of Coercion


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Bristol presses her lips together, and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh, damn it.

“But I’m changing that, starting now.Let me take care of you.”There it is—that embarrassed collapse in my stomach.Perfect.

“You don’t have to—I’m not even the one who’s upset.Honestly, I’m perfectly—Will!”

She acts all surprised that I’ve scooped her up into my arms, but this isn’t up for discussion.“Shh.You’ll wake up the twins.”

“I’m fine,” she whispers.“I don’t need—I’m totally fine.Seriously.You have other things to deal with.There has to be a meeting about everything with Hughes, right?So just—”

In my bathroom, I lean down and start the tub with Bristol still in my arms, then stand her on her feet.

“Are you ignoring me?”Another whisper.

“Yes,” I whisper back.“I don’t care about Hughes right now.”

There is nothing more adorable on the goddamn planet than her pout.“But Finn and his dad…”

“I don’t give a fuck about Hughes Industries, the company, right now.And Finn and his dad aren’t here.”

She lets me tug her sweatshirt off over her head, then her tank top, and then the thin little bra she’s wearing underneath.

“I can take my own clothes off, you know,” she whispers, but doesn’t stop me from taking off her leggings.Bristol’s not wearing socks.I can’t remember when she stopped wearing them in the apartment.

“You hate socks, don’t you?”

She wrinkles her nose.“I hate socks inside.”

“You and Emerson should be friends.He also hates socks inside.”

“What about you?Do you hate socks inside?”

I’m crouched in front of her, one hand on the back of her naked knee, and suddenly it’s torture to think about socks instead of spreading her out on my bed.

But I will.For her.

“I’m fine either way.”

I turn off the tub, test the water to make sure it’s not too hot, and help her in.

Bristol slides under the water with a blissful expression.

“It’s a jacuzzi tub, if you want jets.”

She leans her head back against the side and closes her eyes.“Honestly, those things always make me want to throw up.”

“In a relaxing way, or…?”

“No, in a gross way.”She laughs, and my embarrassment is immediately followed by a sense of victory.

“Scoot forward.I’ll wash your hair.”

“You’ll wash myhair?”

“Don’t act so surprised.It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“That’s right.”Bristol sounds pleased that I’ve washed her hair before.She rearranges herself in the tub while I get shampoo and work it through her hair, then rinse it.Add conditioner.

“Turn this way.”

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