Unbreak My Heart (14 page)

“Power comes from here.” He squeezed my arms with his. “Tighten your core, that’ll keep you stable.”

Stable. I was starting to come unhinged. And the core part of me that tightened wasn’t my damn abs.

“Hold the ball. Dribble a couple of times and then shoot.”

Boone stepped back and I almost crumpled into a pile. The man was such a powerful force. Once again the universe proved the joke was on me. I’d asked him to tone down the intensity. But this playful, helpful, goddamn sweet side? A hundred times worse. As I stood there, clutching a ball, I understood that I had no defense against this man. None. A good offense wasn’t even a good defense.

“Concentrate, Sierra. You can do this,” he said in a “yay team!” pep rally kind of voice that I never in a million years imagined I’d hear from Brooding Boone West.

That was the last straw.

I whirled around and whipped the ball at him. “Who are you?”

When he peered over his shoulder with a smirk, all cute-like, I wanted to punch him. Seriously. How was I supposed to resist this?

You can’t. More to the point: You don’t want to.

“What is going on with you?” he demanded.

“I don’t know!”

“Well, who am I supposed to ask?”

I might’ve snarled at him before I stomped into the yard where it was dark and I couldn’t see his chest dripping with sweat, or hear that rough voice in my ear, or feel his hard body pressed behind mine or wonder why I was even fighting this.

He shuffled across the grass and stopped behind me, so close his exhalations drifted across my hair. He said one word. “Talk.”

“I don’t know what—”

“Look at
me
, Sierra. Talk to
me
. Not into the damn air.”

I faced him. “Fine. I want to talk about new rules.”

“New rules. When did we have old rules?”

“Before. Unspoken ones.”

Boone studied me. “What the fuck are unspoken rules?”

“You know. Before. When we were friends. We hung out. We ripped on each other’s choice of music. We argued about TV shows. We heckled each other’s favorite movies from the 80s—”

“Again with all the negativity, McKay,” he said with annoyance. “We had some of the same favorite movies like
Top Gun
,
The Princess Bride
and
The Terminator
. But I’ll never understand what you saw in
Dirty Dancing
because that one is just plain stupid.”

“You want to talk stupid? How about
Blade Runner
?” I shot back. “This is what I’m talking about! You complained when it was my turn to pick a movie and I acted like you were a grumpy pain in the ass. You pretended not to notice that I had a massive crush on you.” I took a breath. “Those rules.”

“Those weren’t rules,” he scoffed. “But whatever. New rule.” He bestowed that dangerously devilish grin. “No rules.”

I put my hand on his chest to push him back. “Stop being cute!”

Just like that, he did.

Boone flattened his palm over my hand on his chest. He dropped his other hand to my hip, spreading his fingers out and squeezing my flesh; the erotic intimacy nearly liquefied my bones. Then he upped the ante and pressed his warm, firm lips to the base of my jaw. “Truth between us, Sierra. I’m not the cute couple guy. I’ll always be intense. Especially when it comes to this. Especially when it comes to
you
. I’ve wanted you for too fucking long to pretend it’ll be anything less between us.”

I slid my hand across his chest to feel the increased pounding of his heart and felt my pulse race in response. “It’s always been like this. I didn’t imagine it, did I?”

“No, baby. You didn’t.”

The interruption from Kyler calling out our names was probably for the best.

Boone stepped back. He brought my palm to his mouth for a soft kiss. “We’ll pick this up later.”

Later tonight? Later this week? When?

By the smirk on his face, he knew exactly how much he’d flustered me.

Not with the admission of the need between us, but that he hadn’t indicated a time when we’d have another chance to act on it.

K
y had done
me a solid, interrupting at that moment.

I didn’t have much willpower when it came to Sierra, probably because I’d had titanium-coated resolve during our friendship before and things were different now.

Very different.
She’s the one who’s holding back, not me.

I sent her a sideways glance. She’d wrapped her arms around herself as if she was cold. Thankfully I’d slipped my shirt back on before I’d followed her across the yard, or this might look more like an interrupted hookup.

“What have you two been doing?” Kyler demanded. “It’s almost halftime and you haven’t watched any of the game.”

“Gimme a break. I was cooped up inside all day. We’ve been out here shooting hoops.” I pointed to the basketball by the goalpost. “Why?”

“I saw the basketball. I just didn’t know where you guys had disappeared to.”

“Sierra thought she saw a kitten run across the yard and we went to check it out.”

She snorted beside me.

“Are you coming in to watch the second half?”

“Who’s ahead?”

“Denver. Seven to zip.”

I looked at Sierra. “You sticking around?”

“I think I’ll head home to call my dad so he and I can commiserate about the game in real time. See what my roommate has going on this week.” She raised an eyebrow at Ky. “Want me to leave the food?”

“You have to ask?”

“I will have to take a brownie to Lu.”

“I hope Mase didn’t eat them all,” Ky grumbled.

Back in the kitchen, Sierra said to me, “No bullshit about your housing situation. Do you need me to refer you to a Realtor?” as she sliced two brownies.

“You ditching me as a client, McKay?”

“You weren’t ever my client, West.”

She had that same piece of hair stuck to her mouth. I loosened it and tucked it behind her ear. “If you’d pass along a name, that’d be great, but it’s pretty much impossible for me to look at anything this week.”

“Why?”

“I’m in training. Once they’ve worked with me a few times, they’ll have a better idea where to utilize me. I do have some…limitations.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, I choose not to be a charge nurse. There’s more paperwork. I don’t do med carts for the same reason. I’m great at the heavy lifting. I end up being the go-to guy for IVs since I’ve done so many. I’d rather be on the floor taking care of my patients than dealing with staffing issues so I’ll skip the management track.”

Sierra smiled at me and fuck if I didn’t just eat it up.

“What?”

“I love to hear you say ‘my patients.’ It is obvious you love what you do, Boone. Any hospital is lucky to have you.”

I felt my neck heat. “Thanks.”

“Although, you did jam that needle in my ass a little harder than you needed to.”

“Bull. You were feverish. Everything is more amplified, including pain.”

“No.” She tapped her chin as if deep in thought. “I clearly remember you offering to kiss it and make it better.”

“Now I know you were delusional. I’d never even joke about that. It’d be highly unprofessional.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe that’d been wishful thinking on my part…me telling you to kiss my ass.”

I hooked my arm around her neck and ruffled her hair until she squealed. Christ. When had I reverted to a twelve-year-old boy?

But she didn’t look like she’d minded. In fact, she wore the cutest smile. One I’d seen a lot during our “friend” days.

I smoothed her hair back in place as an excuse to touch her. “In all seriousness, can we find some time to see each other?” I traced the edge of her jawline with the backs of my fingers. “Maybe toward the end of the week?”

“I liked our one-on-one time tonight.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except for the actual basketball-playing part.”

“So a sports date is out?”

“Sports date. Like we go to a sporting event?”

“No. Like we play racquetball or golf. Maybe go rock climbing or to a batting cage to hit baseballs.”

“Boone. Those are
horrible
ideas for dates.”

I laughed.

She grabbed the plate of brownies. “You have my number, West.”

That was better than I’d hoped for. “See you around, McKay.”

After she left I sliced off a chunk of brownie—a huge chunk, Mase could suck it since Sierra spoiled him with this all the damn time—and poured myself a glass of milk.

My thoughts wandered to Sierra’s earlier comments about rules. Specifically the “unspoken” rules that had existed between us. Rules I’d set, but she’d abided by without question.

Total dick move.

Yet we’d ended up better friends for it. Sierra was the first girl I’d had a real friendship with. I’d loved every minute of how she’d been able to give me shit and take it without getting all weepy and girly. Or throwing herself at me.

I remembered too, the last day things had been easy like that between us; the week of prom. A prom that I hadn’t asked her to, for a number of reasons, so I’d been avoiding her. But I’d seen her across the football field after school, her hair shining in the sun almost as brightly as her smile, that goddamn laugh of hers drifting to me on the spring breeze and once again, I couldn’t resist the pull of her…

I waited, oh,
three minutes after her good buddy Marin took off before I strolled over to where Sierra sat in the grass. My heart sped up like it did every time I saw her.

Sierra gave me a droll stare.

I flopped beside her, stretching out on my back and groaning, “Man, I’m so fucking whupped.”

“No,
Hi, Sierra, how are you today
? No,
I’ve been ditching your calls because I pulled a muscle in my phone-dialing finger?
Just
I’m so fucking whupped
?”

“Touchy today, aren’t we?” I filled both hands with grass and showered her with it.

“Hey! That’s it. I’m leaving.”

She looked so damn cute when she pretended to be mad at me.

Then Sierra started to stand, so I grabbed her around the waist, tackled her to the ground and rolled her in the grass, ignoring her yelps.

I kept my hand on her stomach, holding her in place, and I leaned over her. “Hey. If it isn’t sexy Sierra McKay. You’re looking damn fine today. Is that a new shirt? It does amazing things for your…eyes.” I aimed a quick grin at her. “Did you do something different with your hair? The chocolate-colored tresses are so silky and shiny in this sunlight.”

“You’re a dickhead. And I’m still mad at you.”

“No, you’re not.”
You’re as crazy about me as I am about you and that sucks.

“Yes, I am.”

“Then how come you’re still here?”

Sierra pointedly glared at my hand pressing into her stomach, my fingers spread out like a starfish so I could touch as much of her skin as possible. But the heat created some kind of suction with my palm and I felt her belly ripple from my touch. No freakin’ way was I moving my hand now.

Those striking whiskey-colored eyes met mine.

I wanted to know what she was thinking as she gazed up at me. Did she see the same longing in my eyes that I saw in hers?

Then she looked at me with regret and forced herself to sit up, dislodging my hand. “You suck at returning text messages, West.”

“I’ve been studying for finals and covering Alan’s shift since he’s on vacation. Or I’ve been working out.”

“I can tell. You’ve got some beefy biceps going on.”

I lifted my arms and flexed. “Check ’em out. Go on.”

She bumped me with her shoulder. “No. It might compromise your virtue if people saw me feeling you up.”

“Might be worth it.” I let my gaze take in every nuance of her pretty face. I wanted so badly to trace the curve of her stubborn jaw. Once with my fingers. Once with my mouth. A breeze wafted over us, ruffling her hair, which still had green chunks twisted in it. “Sorry for throwing grass at you.” I started to lean in and noticed Sierra’s focus was on my throat. Could she see how being this close to her sent my pulse pounding? I plucked two pieces of grass out and let them spiral to the ground.

“Boone—”

“Relax,” I said gruffly. “I’ll get ’em out.”

She remained motionless as I began at her scalp and worked my way down the silken strands of her hair. She had to know I was deliberately dragging this out. But I had this chance—it might be the last one to touch her casually—so I took it.

“Why didn’t you return my texts?” she asked.

“I suck at texting. What did you need to talk to me about?”

Once again, Sierra’s gaze roved over my face. She saw too much, the intensity in my eyes, the change in my breathing, my lips parted to release shallow breaths, the hard set to my jaw as I fought the urge to press my lips to that sexy, sassy mouth of hers.

When she continued studying me, I murmured, “Sierra?”

“Oh. Right. I wanted to see if you were coming to the branding next Saturday. You don’t have to help with the actual work part, just come to the after-party.”

“Why the invite? The McKays need a West whipping boy? Or are your dad, psycho uncles and cousins gonna castrate me?”