Good Boy (WAGs #1)(79)

I’m at her side in a heartbeat, resting both hands on her shoulders. I try to pull her close. She resists at first. Then her entire body seems to sag, and she melts against me, her cheek resting on my left pec.

“I feel so guilty,” she mumbles. “My parents paid for my first college education, and now they’re paying for part of this second one. They keep helping me out even after I’ve screwed up. You know how humiliating that is sometimes?”

“Aw, Jessie.” I thread my fingers through her soft hair. “You shouldn’t feel humiliated. Your family helps you because they love you.”

“I know.” Her voice is muffled against my chest. “But I want to start helping myself. I want to start helping them. I want to pay them back every dime. I want to get a nursing job and be successful at it.”

“You will,” I say with conviction.

Her head tips up, brown eyes flickering with uncertainty. “You really believe that?”

“Of course. You’re going to be a kickass nurse, and soon you’ll be making dough hand over fist. You’ll be the first nurse to hit the Forbes list.”

Jess laughs. “Wow. You aim high, huh?”

“For the stars, babe. Always aim for the stars.” I sweep my thumb along her cheekbone. It’s slightly damp, as if a few tears slipped out when I wasn’t looking. “And here’s the thing—if my man Cindy offers to pay for your airfare, it’s not because she feels sorry for you or wants to rub it in your face that you’re broke. It’s because she loves you and misses you and wants to see you.”

A trace of guilt returns to her eyes. “I know. But…I can’t accept any more money from them, Blake. I just can’t.”

I grasp her chin with my hand. “Then accept it from me.”

Her mouth falls open. “No.”

“Yes.” I pin her with a stern look. “Let me buy you a plane ticket home, baby. I know you miss them.” I’ve seen the longing in her expression the last few times we’ve visited my family. The Riley clan is as loud and boisterous as the Canning crew, but I know it’s not the same as being with her own family.

“I do miss them…” She bites her lip. “But…no. I appreciate the offer, Blake, I really do, but—”

“But nothing. Let me do this for you.”

“No—”

“Yes. And you know what? It’s not even a loan. It’s a gift.”

“No—”

“Yes. I mean it, J-Babe. I want to give you this gift.”

She sighs. “You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”

I grin widely. “She’s learning.”

She starts doing the lip-biting thing again, which stirs the Blake Snake to life. I ease my hips back slightly so she doesn’t feel my semi-snake pressing against her belly. I don’t want her to think I want to bone her right now. Or worse—that she has to bone me in exchange for this plane ticket.

“Don’t you get it by now?” I say gruffly. “I want you to be happy. I want to be the one making you happy. Cuz that’s what—”

“Couples do?” she finishes, a wry smile playing on her lips.

“Yup. That’s what couples do. They make each other happy.” I reach down and smack her ass. “So open up that laptop of yours and find us a good flight deal.”

“Us?”

Shit. I immediately regret the phrasing, because there’s a happy glimmer in her eyes now. But there’s no way I can go to Cali with her—we’ve got three days of East Coast road games this week. That’s why Wes can’t go.

“You,” I correct ruefully. “I wish I could come with you, but it doesn’t work with our schedule.”

“Right.” She nods. “The road games.” There’s a pause. “Maybe next time?”

I can’t hide the pleasure that swamps me. It shows itself in the form of a broad smile. “You’d really take me home with you?”

“Why not? My folks already know we’re dating. Besides, it’s not a real relationship until you’ve been interrogated, tortured and made fun of by my siblings.”

I snicker. “Let ’em try. I can out-torture anyone, babe. I just act extra annoying and they wave a white flag to get me to stop babbling.”

She snorts, then wanders back to the couch and picks up her laptop. I stand back for a moment, admiring the way her loose shirt slides off one smooth shoulder. And how long her legs look in those stretchy yoga pants. And how fucking hot she looks sitting on my couch.

My gaze shifts to the stack of textbooks on my coffee table. And the bright blue winter jacket draped over one of the counter stools. Her laptop case on the hardwood. And then there are the items I can’t see—Jess’s toothbrush and toiletries in my bathroom. The extra PJs—my favorite ones with the cartoon bananas—she keeps in my dresser.

These past few weeks, little signs of Jess have made their way into my apartment. And…I like it. I like coming home after a brutal game to find that she let herself in with the spare key I gave her and cooked dinner for me. I like snuggling up to her warm, soft body and falling asleep together.

“If you’re serious about this ticket, there’s a crazy deal happening on this travel site right now,” she says from the sofa.