Page 36 of Slapshot Baby

"Like you're thinking about something that isn't friendship.”

"I'm always thinking about something that isn't friendship when it comes to you," he says in a sultry tone.

On one of my visits, I arrive to find him standing by the window in sweatpants and a t-shirt that fits properly for the first time. The fabric pulls across his chest and shoulders.

He turns when he hears me. He's shaved his beard down to clean stubble, and his jawline is sharp and defined.

My stomach drops straight through the floor.

"You look better," I manage.

"You look like you just swallowed something." His voice is low, amused.

"Gum. I swallowed my gum."

“Did you?”

He grins. Full, wide, devastating. The crooked nose makes it asymmetrical in a way that should be imperfect but somehow only makes him hotter.

“Yes,” I comfirm weakly.

You're friends. You're friends. You're friends, you absolute disaster of a human being.

On the night before his release, I bring him chocolate chip cookies from the bakery on Seventh because I’m running out of excuses to keep coming here, and baked goods feel like a safe farewell.

They say take care of yourself, but I’m definitely never going out with you.

Don’t they?

The truth is, there’s nothing I’d like more than to go out with him.

But I can’t.

I won’t.

Wanting Kai Donovan has already gotten me into enough trouble.

His room looks different. Half-packed. Someone has stacked clothes in a bag by the door. The monitors are still running but feel like a formality now.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed in jeans and a henley, looking too healthy to be a patient as he strokes the succulent.

“Last night,” I say, handing him the box. “How does it feel?”

“Like getting out of prison.”

“Quite a comparison. Speaking from experience?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Can’t say I am. Managed to stay on the right side of the law so far.” He takes the box. “But I’ve been here way too fucking long, Ava.”

“Fair.” I settle into my usual chair. “So what’s the plan? Back to your place, physical therapy, slowly rejoin the world?”

“Back to the penthouse, yeah. Mira’s staying with me for the first week.” He opens the box, takes a cookie, and bites into it. His eyes close briefly. “These are incredible.”

“I know. I have excellent taste.”

He swallows and fixes those brown eyes on me. “Come visit me at the penthouse.”

My stomach drops.