Even if he wasn’t, I still couldn’t think that way about him. Even if hehadgrown up with sexy written all over him.
Could I?
“You’re not,” I repeated, easing him off me and propping him up against the doorframe while I shoved the door open again. “And it’s my fault, and I’m taking care of you. End of discussion.”
“Love it when you get bossy,” Iggy said, falling through the door and forcing me to catch him so he didn’t hit the ground all over again.
This was going to be a long night.
4
Iggy
Aside from thepain in my wrist and the mild concussion, I was in little Iggy heaven right now.
Harvey had gotten the fire started—after maybe the twelfth attempt, which wasn’t bad for a beginner—ordered pizza, and was now acting as a person-sized pillow under me while I alternated between listening to Theo snoring and watching the flames dance in the fireplace. The two activities I could cope with right now.
The doctor had promised I’d feel myself again in a day or two—and I could take off the immobilizing splint and switch to regular supportive bandages on my wrist as soon as I took the last of the good painkillers.
Right now, it seemed like a small price to pay for the chance to snuggle with Harvey.
Something I’d wanted to do since I was fifteen and in love with a boy who only existed in the summer for me. A boy who was so sweet and kind and generous, loyal and warm and quiet and shy, but who wasmine.
My Harvey.
… those painkillers sure were doing a number on me.
I had to get away. The cuddling was rotting my brain.
“Need to pee,” I said, heaving myself off Harvey where I was half-sprawled over him on the couch.
“Are you okay by yourself?” Harvey murmured. His clothes were rumpled and his hair was all out of place, voice soft and rough like he’d been sleeping. Maybe he had been.
I wasnotgoing to feel guilty for waking him up. He was the one who ran me over.
“I don’t need you to hold it for me,” I said. “I’ve had practice.”
Harvey raised an eyebrow, a smirk turning up one corner of his ridiculous soft pink sexy lips and making his otherwise sleep-softened face light up with mischief.
Blood rushed to my face, which probably wasn’t good for a man with a head injury.
“I’m talking about peeing,” I said. “Justpeeing.”
“Are you telling me you never jerk off?” Harvey asked, smile widening into the kind of panty-dropping smirk I should’ve known he’d grow up to have.
If I’d been wearing panties, they would’ve been all the way dropped.
He’d clearly gotten over the guilt of hitting me with his car.
I huffed, turning to walk away. “Not with my right hand,” I called back, just as I slipped into the bathroom.
My phone went off in my pocket exactly the moment I pushed my sweats down, but I was pretty sure whoever it was would wait. Seth had already sent his condolences and an apology on behalf of his cousin—and a promise that if I needed anything, I had it, and if I needed to come stay with him and Mark, I was always welcome.
Seth had always been a sweetheart. People misunderstood him, but under the jokes and the innuendo and the loud-and-proud outer layer, he was one of the sweetest people I’d ever met.
The championship title went to Harvey.
Once I’d Macgyvered my way around peeing one-handed—harder than I’d thought it’d be—I pulled my phone out to see who was texting.
