“Can’t blame a guy for askin’. Here, sit on this step, lean back against these towels, and rest the back of your neck on the edge of the tub.” Brody sat on the tile ledge and turned on the water. He pulled the retractable bath-head out and ran the warm water over my hair. “Is that okay? It’s not too hot? It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Mm. It’s great.” I watched his face as he sprayed the water over my hair.

“I’ve never done this before. Are you sure it’s okay?” He looked into my eyes as he drizzled some shampoo on my hair.

“I’ve never done this either.”

I let my gaze wander over him. His arms flexed as he moved the water over my head. His rippled abs were just a finger space away. I let the tip of my finger run across his skin, watching as the muscles contracted and goose bumps covered them. His gaze darted to mine.

I looked up at him as he gently shampooed my hair and then applied conditioner. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he worked, like he did when he concentrated on school work. When he glanced down, he caught me staring at him and smiled. He wiped the blood from the side of my face and above my eye.

“Is this okay?” he asked again.

“It feels good.”

Wrapping a towel around my hair, he squeezed the water out before wrapping it in a dry towel and helping me sit up. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead before brushing a droplet of water off my face. “Dizzy? Do you feel okay?”

“I’m good.” I smiled.

“Nothing started bleeding again. That’s a good sign.”

“See, no doctor required.”

“I still think—”

“No.” I shook my head, immediately wishing I hadn’t when pain sliced through it.

“Hurts, huh?”

“Don’t be smug. It’s not a good look on you, Ace.”

Brody helped me stand. I ran a brush through my hair while he grabbed the towels and threw them in a corner—typical guy—then he helped me back downstairs to the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Starving.”

“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” He set a plate of fresh vegetables and hummus in front of me.

“Hummus?” I smiled.

“Yeah, someone told me it wasn’t a gross as it looked. Turns out, she was right. You trying to change the subject?”

“Can you just let me stay here for a while?”

“You should know the answer to that,” he said, sitting on the barstool next to me. He put his elbow on the counter and rested his cheek in his upturned palm.

I turned my head slightly and looked at him through my eyelashes. “Okay, then can I stay without talking about… things?”

He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it and nodded. “If that’s what you want.” He studied me for a moment before saying, “Willow, look at me.” I angled my body toward him. He stared into my eyes. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“I know.” I looked down at my plate, pushing the hummus around with a carrot stick.

Brody sighed and stood. “You want to watch a movie?” He held his hand out to me. I threaded my fingers with his. “Come on. Bring the hummus with you.” He started climbing the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“I was watching a movie upstairs when you got here.”

“Oh.” I walked with him upstairs, to a room at the end of the hall. He walked inside. I hesitated at the door. “Your bedroom?”

He nodded. I stood just inside the door and looked around. His room was twice as big as mine was. The walls were painted a silvery gray, and the curtains and bed linens were navy blue. A flat-screen television hung on the wall across from his bed. One wall held a dresser and a desk with an open laptop on it. The other had built-in bookcases crammed full of books.

Wandering over to the bookshelves, I set the plate of hummus down on the bedside table. I fingered some the books, reading the titles. Some recent titles I recognized, while others were older, classics.

“I have an e-reader now, but I can’t part with these,” he said behind me, his breath skimming my neck.

“I didn’t know you liked to read so much.”

“Yeah. Like you,” he said.

I turned and looked at him. He was standing so close I could feel his body heat, and I became acutely aware of his lack of shirt. I tried to keep my eyes on his face, but they had little minds of their own and wandered down his chest, taking in his broad shoulders, defined—very well defined—chest, tight, rolled abs, and oblique muscles as they disappeared into his low-riding sweatpants.

Ugh, I think I’m going to hyperventilate. At least if I faint, I can blame it on my head. But holy shiznet is he ripped.

I shook my head and tried to remember what we were talking about… books, yeah, books. “Um… how do you know I like to read?”

“I pay attention.” He shrugged one of his totally orgasmic shoulders. “You’re always taking books from the library.”

I, however, was not paying attention. Not at all. Not to what he was saying, anyway. I was paying a great deal of attention to how he looked, and he looked amazing. Like an underwear model, Greek god, and any other extraordinarily good-looking guy I could think of—but since my thinking was severely limited by the sex rolling off his body, I couldn’t come up with any more men to compare him to so I settled for, oh holy hell is he hot.

Reaching up, I skimmed my fingertips over the tattoo circling his left bicep. It was an intricate tribal design. I traced it with my finger. He inhaled through his teeth, and goose bumps dotted his skin. I pulled my hand back.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I’ve just wondered what it looked like since I saw it in class one day.”

“It’s okay.” His voice came out huskier than normal. Reaching out, he took my hand. “Let’s watch the movie.”

I perched on the edge of the bed. Brody threw pillows against the headboard. “Come here. You’ll be more comfortable sitting against the headboard.”

I scooted next to him. “What are we watching?”

That was the last thing I remembered.

Brody woke me at four in the morning. “Willow, wake up, darlin’”

“Is the movie over?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. You fell asleep.”

“Sorry.” I rubbed my eyes, wincing. Dropping my hands, I looked at him. “Did you call me darlin’?”

“Just tryin’ it out,” he said with a grin.

I scrunched my nose and shook my head. “Nah.”

“I didn’t think so, either.” He smoothed the hair from my face. “I need to take you to Jenna’s before her parents miss you.”

“Oh. Okay.” I climbed out of bed and followed him downstairs, grabbing my shoes. “Hey, do you think we could swing by the field and grab my bike? I rode it over here last night.”

“Sure. What’s it doing in the field?” Brody asked as he pulled on his Nikes.

“I left it there when I jumped the fence.” I looked up when he didn’t say anything. He was staring at me. “What?” I asked.

He smirked. “Very badass.”

“I just jumped a fence, jeez. You’re easily impressed.”

“Everything you do impresses me.” He skimmed his hand over my hair.

“Well, Ace, the feeling happens to be mutual. Except for one thing.”

“What’s that?” Brody tilted his head, his brows furrowed.

“I’m not impressed that you woke me up so early. That sucks.”

“You can go back to bed when you get to Jenna’s.”

“Are you kidding? Do you even know Jenna? She’ll want to know everything. Everything. Every single second will need to be accounted for. I’ll never get back to sleep.” I sighed.

“Poor baby,” he said, grinning.

“I see you’re completely torn up over it.”

Jenna was waiting for me at her front door when Brody dropped me off at her house an hour later. She put her fingers to her lips for me to stay quiet—like I was gonna sing and dance—as we made our way to her bedroom. As soon as she closed her door, she swung around and pointed her finger at me.