Unbreak My Heart (Unbreak My Heart #1)(19)

“What in God’s name are you doing?” I asked when my mouth finally started working again.

“Come on, let’s get you up.”

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“If you don’t stop looking at my dick, it’s going to perk up and say hello,” he warned.

“That’s what got me into this shit show in the first place.”

“Right. I’m not going to bang you against the wall. You’re f*cking sick, and you need to go to the hospital—so either you let me help you in the shower or I’m taking you like that—smelling like ass and looking like a homeless person.”

“I’m pretty sure any sort of ego I had from sleeping with you has just shriveled up and died.”

“Good, then you won’t care if I see you naked.”

“Oh believe me, I don’t,” I replied tiredly as I let him pull me off the floor. “I already know you don’t want ‘seconds’ so I’m not worried you’ll see something that turns you off.”

“I was a dick.”

“No worries, at least the sex was good,” I answered as he pulled my T-shirt over my sore breasts. “Careful,” I warned.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised as he slid my leggings and underwear down my legs.

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you,” he told me sincerely, holding my hand as we stepped into the shower. “I was so messed up that morning—”

“You think I wasn’t?” I asked as he moved me slowly toward the running water. “God, I f*cking threw up. I should have seen that moment for the omen it was.”

“I’m sorry, Katie,” he said, pulling my hands around his torso to stabilize me so he could run his fingers through my hair. “I was such a dick. I knew none of that was your fault, but f*ck if I wasn’t pissed anyway.”

“You know that I was drunk, right?”

“It doesn’t—”

“No, it does matter,” I argued before he could finish his sentence, closing my eyes as he worked shampoo into my scalp. “You seem to be under some illusion that I took advantage of you or something. That’s bullshit. We were both drinking, and if I recall things correctly, you f*cked me while I was pinned facedown on the bed.”

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, pausing as I felt his cock twitch against my stomach.

“Not that I was complaining at the time,” I mumbled, making his hands tighten in my hair. “Fuck, my stomach is starting to—”

I jerked away from him and barely bent over before I was heaving. “I’m sorry,” I gasped between waves. “Shit. I f*cking hate—”

“Shhh,” he replied calmly, bracing one of his arms across my chest and rubbing my back with the other. “You’re okay. It’ll pass.”

“God,” I groaned as my stomach finally settled again. “Why are you even here?”

“Let’s get you washed up.”

“Oh no, I can do this shit on my own.”

“I’m not leaving you in here by yourself.”

“Fine.” I washed the most important areas on my body quickly, refusing to exert the extra energy for anything else, and within a few minutes I was wrapped in a towel and Shane was carrying me into my room.

“Did you really just help me take a shower?” I asked, dropping my head to his shoulder. “What the hell was that about?”

I fell asleep before he could answer, and I vaguely felt him dressing me as I faded in and out. By the time I woke up fully, Shane was once again carrying me.

“You jackass,” I said, my entire body stiffening as I realized where we were.

“You need to see a doctor,” he replied, marching through the waiting room of the ER.

“I don’t have insurance, Shane, and it’s just morning sickness.”

“Rachel was never this sick.”

“I’m not Rachel.”

“You’re getting checked out.”

“When exactly did you get a say in this?”

“When Anita called and said you were sick as shit and lying on the floor of your bathroom.”

“She’s such a f*cking drama queen.”

“That’s exactly where I found you.”

“Semantics,” I mumbled as we reached the front desk.

*



“I still don’t understand why you’re here,” I called softly, rolling over gingerly in my hospital bed. The damn bed was so uncomfortable that I knew I’d be even more achy when I climbed back out of it.

“We’re friends,” he replied, messing with something on his phone.

He’d barely looked at me since they’d brought me back to the small room and proceeded to confirm my pregnancy. He’d left while they gave me an internal ultrasound, and had remained silent even as I caught him glancing at the images I’d conveniently left on the counter by the only chair in the room. He was restless, almost jittery, and to be honest it made my tension rise with every small movement.

“We’re not friends, Shane,” I told him seriously, making his head snap up in surprise. “We’ve got history—a shit ton of it—but we haven’t been friends in a long time.”