Perfecting Patience (Blow Hole Boys 1.5) - Page 34

I released her immediately and got out of the bed. Turning on the overhead light, all the dark corners of the room filled with brightness. Her eyes popped open and she looked up at me. Sweat dripped from her hairline and rolled down into her face.

Her wide eyes took in her surroundings before they finally collided with mine. Realization set in and embarrassment filled her facial features as red heat spread across her cheeks and down her neck.

“Are you okay?” I asked hesitantly.

She swallowed hard and peeled the comforter away from her skin.

“I’m okay. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She leapt out of bed and came over to me. She reached for my cast, which without even realizing it, I was holding against my chest. The truth was she’d hurt my arm like a bitch, but I’d never tell her that.

I pulled my arm away from her and reached out with my good hand and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I’m fine. Are you sure you’re okay?”

She looked away from me and shook it off like it was nothing.

“Yeah. It was just a nightmare. It happens to the best of us. Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

I held her in my arms for the rest of the night. I felt the pain pills kick in and my eyes got heavy. Finally, around three in the morning, I fell asleep.

Later that morning, I woke to the smell of breakfast. Rubbing my hand roughly down my face, I crawled out of bed and made my way into the kitchen.

“Good morning, sunshine!” she said with a bright smile.

She was pretending last night never happened.

“So I know soccer really isn’t your thing, but I have a game this afternoon. Want to come along? Sydney and Aunt Sarah will be there, so you won’t have to sit alone.”

Patience in tiny gym shorts running around covered in sweat. Yeah, that sounded like good times to me. I was getting turned on just thinking about it.

“Yeah. I’ll come and see what’s up.” I bit into a piece of toast and downed some OJ.

Later that afternoon, I sat with Sydney and Sarah and watched a soccer game for the first time in my life. Soccer was some serious shit. Those girls didn’t hold back at all, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Patience. She was amazing, and seeing her body move so fluently was beautiful and hot all at the same time.

She shuffled across the field like she owned it. Her ponytail bounced as she maneuvered the ball with the sides of her feet before rearing her leg back and kicking the ball right past the goalie and square into the middle of the net for the winning point. Her face lit up and the smile that spread across her lips was unlike any smile I’d ever been able to put on her face.

The crowd broke out in a cheering roar. A group of girls attacked her with smiling faces and happy hugs as they lifted her up. I could hear a sprinkle of her genuine laughter as she held on for the ride and threw her head back in joy. It was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.

After the game, I waited while she was in the locker room with the rest of the girls. When she finally came out, she had wet hair and those sweet little soccer shorts were replaced with a pair of tight jeans. I went up to her and pulled her into my arms.

“You ruled that field, baby. It was sexy as hell to watch.” I kissed her forehead.

“You think everything is sexy.” She playfully pushed at my chest.

“Everything that involves you.”

I captured her cheek in my hand and took a good look at her. Something seemed off. She looked high. Her eyes were glazed over and the sleepy smile on her face looked too happy. Her vision was off and she seemed to be having a problem looking me in the eye.

“Did you smoke something?” I asked as I pushed her away and gave her another look over.

Her mouth popped open in shock.

“What? Of course I didn’t smoke anything. You know I don’t touch that stuff, Zeke.”

I knew that deep down. Many times, I’d seen her pass when everybody was passing around a joint, but something about the way she looked screamed high as a kite.

“I know, but you look high. If you did, you can just tell me. You know I don’t care about that shit. If anything, I’d be pissed that you didn’t share.” I chuckled.

“Well, I didn’t. I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep much and then with the game… It’ll pass.” She shrugged.

I felt bad for asking. Of course she was tired. Nightmares that kept her up all night, school, and soccer. Not to mention she was helping me out here and there when I couldn’t do something because of my stupid crushed hand.

“I’m sorry, baby. I should know better. Come on, let’s go home.” I grabbed her hand and started toward her car.

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