Broken Course (Wrecked and Ruined #3)(13)

"I owe you?" she asks amused.

"Yes, you owe me some serious hand-holding for the way you behaved last night."

"Excuse me?" She sits up only to regret the sudden movement.

I chuckle to myself as she clenches her stomach and slowly leans back on the bed. Then I take the opportunity to slide an arm under her and inch over closer.

"Okay, okay. We can cuddle if you insist." I curl her in my arms as she huffs. I can tell she’s not really annoyed when she relaxes into my side. "So, what do you say? You want to hang out and commiserate with me?"

"Sorry. I don’t like green Gatorade," she responds with a shrug.

"I have red too." I toss her a wink, knowing good and damn well she is making excuses.

"I don’t like ‘eighties movies," she states, flashing me a smile.

Shit. Her smile.

"Fine. We can watch whatever you like. But, just so you know, that’s a serious issue we are going to have to discuss at a later date."

"Who says there is going to be a later date?" she asks, and her smile grows to full blown. "I don’t like you." She bites her lips to contain a laugh, a task I’m learning she is terrible at.

"Oh come on. Now you are just being ridiculous. You like me. You jumped right into my bed on the first date," I tease even though I feel like absolute hell, and the sound of her laughter soothes me as it flitters around us.

"I did not! You carried me to your bed."

"Oh look. We are right back where this conversation started. I carried you to bed, so now you are going to reward my chivalry by spending the day with me." I slowly push up to my feet. My stomach cramps, but I forge ahead to the dresser.

"Here." I pull out a T-shirt and a pair of sweats and toss them onto the bed next to her. They won’t fit her, but that is probably for the best. I’m in no condition to even entertain thoughts of sex, but for some reason, I can’t stop them from flooding my head.

Even after spending the entire night in the least appealing way possible, Sarah Erickson is f*cking sexy as hell. She should’ve woken up this morning looking like a troll who’d spent the night drowning in the rain. But with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her eye makeup slightly smeared, she still oozes sex appeal. Yes, she is beautiful. But her lithe body makes her every move sensual. She tries to play coy, as if she is intimidated by her own overwhelming confidence—the same confidence that makes my dick hard every time I even look in her direction.

"You can use my bathroom. I’ll use the one in the guest room. Towels are under the sink." I say, swinging my own T-shirt and shorts over my shoulder. "Oh, and call Mama Erickson back and tell her I’ll bring you home tonight," I order as I walk from the room.

Sarah doesn’t actually agree to stay, but she doesn’t argue anymore either. That’s more than enough for me.



"I’M NOT watching Vision Quest," Sarah declares while lying on the couch.

"Yes, you are. I’ve had a ridiculously shitty twenty-four hours. Last night, I took a woman on a date and she gave me the stomach flu."

"It’s not the stomach flu! It’s food poisoning from the restaurant you insisted we go to." She laughs weakly then covers her mouth at the very mention of dinner.

"You say potato, I say—"

"Food poisoning," she cuts me off with another groan.

"Okay, fine. I give up. What do you want to watch?" I ask.

We’re lying on opposite ends of the couch; our legs are tangled in the middle. I inch down to get closer. I’ve given it a seriously less than mediocre effort, but I can't seem to stop touching her. It’s just something about the way every connection sends a spark of electricity through… Okay, fine. She makes me hard. Every. Single. Time. I feel like death warmed over, but every time her foot brushes up my leg, even inadvertently, I go stiff.

Sarah Erickson is phenomenal dressed up and flirting over a meal, but surprisingly enough, she’s pretty freaking amazing in baggy sweats while laid up on my couch too.

"Vanilla Sky," she answers.

I curl my lip in disgust. "Is that a movie or flavor of ice cream?"

"Oh my God. Food. I hate you." She starts kicking me while holding her stomach. "It’s a movie."

"I’ve never even heard of it."

"Really? It has Tom Cruise and Penelope Cruz in it. I’m sure you remember seeing the old clips where Cameron Diaz goes off about swallowing Tom’s come."

"What the hell kind of movie is this?" I ask, surprised, and she begins to quietly giggle. "I had no idea Cameron Diaz did porn. I’m seriously out of the loop."

"Oh my God! It’s not porn, Leo. It’s an amazing, thought-provoking, beautifully filmed emotional rollercoaster." She smiles and it lights her already bright, blue eyes.

"Well, in that case, it definitely sounded more interesting when I thought it was porn. Thought provoking just means I’ll spend half the movie confused. And beautifully filmed means I’m going to spend the other half watching sunsets in either slow motion or fast forward."

"Oh, please tell me you are not one of those guys who only watches movies like Transformers and Batman." She slaps a hand over her eyes.