The hotel room door clicks shut behind us, and I lean against it for a second, breathing through my nose. The bus to the Calgary airport was a nightmare. Every little bump felt like a hot poker through my chest, but then the pain meds must have kicked in, because I don’t remember much of the thirty-minute flight or even the bus ride from the Edmonton airport to our hotel.
Tanner drops both our bags on the luggage rack and turns to look at me. His blue eyes assess me like he’s reading stats off a spreadsheet.
“Doc gave me some meds for you while you were conked out. You can take them as needed for pain, but the anti-swelling ones you gotta take every four hours,” he says.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out rougher than I want. “Got it.”
“Okay. Good.” He moves past me toward the bathroom, flipping on the lights as he goes. “You need to get out of those clothes and into bed. Can you manage?”
“I’m fine, I got it,” I say automatically, pushing off the door.
I take two steps toward the bed, and my left side screams in protest. I stop, gritting my teeth, and Tanner’s already back in front of me.
“Lou. Come on. You’re not fine.” His voice is quiet and steady, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Let me help you.”
Okay, he’s right. I’m pretty far fromfineat the moment. And I’m so fucking tired of pretending I am.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “Okay.”
He nods once, then moves in close. The scent of clean sweat, the soap from the rink in Calgary, and something underneath that’s all him fills my nose. My heart kicks up, which is stupid. The guy’s helping me get undressed for bed because I’m too fucked-up to do it myself, not because sexytime is coming up.
Except the way he’s looking at me with all that focused intensity kind of makes my stomach flip.
“Let’s get your hoodie off first,” he says. His fingers find the zipper pull at my chest. “I’m going to unzip this slow, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”
I nod.
He pulls the zipper down, the teeth separating with a softzzzzip. I try to help him by shrugging out of the jacket, but even moving my so-called good side sends a wave of pain across my chest that cuts right through the medication haze. I freeze, letting out a hiss of pain.
Tanner stops for a moment to give me a reproachful look. “Stay still, idiot. Just let me fucking do this for you, okay?”
I nod, finally giving in and letting him help me.
His knuckles brush against the fabric of my T-shirt, his hand warm even through the cotton. There’s light blond stubblebeginning to shadow his jaw. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Once the hoodie is off, he tosses it onto the bed, then flicks his gaze to my sweatpants. “You’re not gonna want to sleep in those.”
My face heats. “I’ll do it, it’s fine.”
“Nope. Come on. Pants off, Bing!” He grins at me.
My jaw drops. “Wait, wait. Did you just make ajoke? AFriendsquote, no less?”
He shrugs. “My mom used to watchFriendsall the time when I was a kid. I pretty much know all the good lines. That one seemed to fit.”
I snort a laugh as Tanner hooks his fingers into the waistband of my sweats.
“Yeah, but weren’t Monica and Chandler trying to get pregnant in that scene? She wanted his pants off because they were about to fuck?”
He shrugs. “Whatever. I didn’t analyze the full transcript before I said it.” He rolls his eyes. “See, this is why I don’t joke. It never lands right.” He immediately reverts back to his usual, no-nonsense self, like he hadn’t even tried to be funny.
“No, it was good,” I argue. “It was funny, I swear. I was just surprised. You, uh… you don’t usually joke around much.”
He’s slowly working my sweatpants over my hips, like he’s taking care to be gentle with me, even though my injury is in my upper body. He crouches down in front of me as he drags them down my legs. This is the second time today Tanner Sinclair has been on his knees in front of me.
His movements are efficient, like he’s trying to be clinical, but there’s something almost reverent about the way he’s touching me. Like he’d rather do anything—like take ten minutes to get my pants off—rather than hurt me. Like he cares about me.
I realize through my slightly medicated haze that his face is only inches from my cock. The only thing between us is the thin layer of cotton from my boxer briefs. And my traitorous dick twitches.
