Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(79)

But her hand felt so fragile in mine and the weak hold she had on my fingers was enough to tell me she was probably still feeling the aftereffects of a night of binge drinking. I could completely relate to that shitty state of being all too well. The body aches, the sour stomach, the debilitating lethargy. Making love to her would have to wait.

I towed her right into my bathroom and closed the lid on the john, giving her a place to sit.

I don’t know why, but the first thing I noticed when I opened up my linen closet was that f*cking box of tampons. I fought the urge to crush the box, squeeze it flat, and get them the hell out of my house. I shoved it to the side. Erin had to have put them back in there because I surely didn’t.

I stifled my curse, knowing she restored things to how they were before she stumbled onto them, as if she didn’t want to upset me or my world.

I pushed some towels over it, searching for my new roll of gauze, knocking over a bottle of hair spray that used to belong to Nikki in the process. It landed on my foot.

Two new bottles of women’s body wash and some other girl products were also glaring at me. I wanted to swipe it all off the shelf, toss it all in the f*cking garbage, and eradicate every trace of Nikki from my house. I should have done it sooner, but I resolved that I’d throw it all out later when Erin wasn’t sitting two feet away watching me get pissed off.

“Here’s shampoo.” I pointed, purposely not looking at her, knowing that I’d probably see her disappointment all over again. I set the purple bottle in the shower and turned the water on. “Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll leave some clean clothes on my bed.”

“Wait. What about your hand?”

I glanced back, masking my attitude with a smile, and flashed the roll of gauze between my fingers. “I’ll deal with it.”

I pulled the door closed behind me, getting out of there before I lost my shit. Nikki and I were done. I needed to get rid of her crap. Pronto.

I had thought seeing Nikki’s stuff used by another woman would give me satisfaction, but in reality it turned my stomach, thinking of her lingering memories touching Erin’s skin.

Erin was beautiful inside and out.

She didn’t deserve to be soiled by my past.

She deserved better.

She deserves better from me.





ERIN CAME INTO my kitchen with her hair still wet, wearing one of my black ATTF T-shirts and my Temple University sweatpants. My chest started to ache. The shirt was fairly new, but those sweats I’d had since my freshman year. The logo running down the length of her right leg was as well-worn as my memories. Knowing Erin was the first woman I’d ever allowed to wear them gave me a renewed sense of satisfaction.

A ghost of a smile tilted her lips but her lingering sadness was visible, like a heavy weight crushing down on her shoulders, making me wonder if there wasn’t more to her depression than she was letting on. I knew without a doubt I had something to do with her mood, but the loss in her eyes was unmistakable.

I’d lost plenty of people in my life. I’d been through my share of death—friends, relatives, my partner. It hurts, it sucks, it takes a while to get over, but whatever it was that she was carrying was more than that.

I turned the burner off on the stove. This was as good of a time as any to defrost some homemade chicken soup. “You hungry?”

She nodded and pulled out one of the island chairs. “It smells good.”

I slid the sandwiches I’d made out of the pan and sliced them in half. “Hope you like grilled cheese.” It had always been my failsafe meal after a bout of heavy drinking.

Erin was still trying to shield that crescent-shaped bruise under her eye. Her hand covered what wasn’t hidden by strands of wet hair.

It was time to break her of her self-consciousness. I tossed my damp dishtowel over my shoulder, set her plate in front of her, and met her on the other side of the island.

I tipped her face up. “Let me see it.”

She tugged her chin away. “No, just don’t look at it. Please.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

She didn’t seem to agree. “It’s hideous, and huge.”

I took her face in my hands. “Doc, look at me. Seriously, it’s a small bruise. It will disappear in a couple of days. I’ve got a two-inch gash in my hand that’s tied up with your stitches. We’re just having a row of bad luck.”

Being this close to her, catching the all too familiar fragrance coming off her clean skin, it was as if she’d branded herself just for me, bathing her entire body in my scent. Curiosity and base male instinct had me sniffing her hair next.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

I couldn’t suppress my groan. “You smell like me.”

She looked apologetic. “You told me to take a shower.”

“I thought you’d use the girl stuff.”

She shook her head; long wet strands swished back and forth, tickling the backs of my hands. “Decided against it.”

I couldn’t hide my smile. “Yeah?”

Her shoulder tipped up. “I didn’t want to smell like a reminder of someone else.” She sniffed her arm. “I’d rather smell like you.”

Holy shit. I think I’m in love.

That was it.

Her five simple words tipped me right over the edge.