Stone Creek Davis, Lainey (best android ereader txt) 📖

thumbs work along their limbs, assessing until she finds exactly the right spot.

She thinks it’s cheating that I let her know when someone’s hurting and she lists the diagnosis to her boss, but I’ve seen the way she listens. She watches their gait, observes the way they hop up on the table. She doesn’t need me to tell her that Scotty has shin splints. She’d figure it out in a heartbeat. Olive is going to have a bright future healing people.

I fucking hate every second of her putting her hands on my teammates, but I know she doesn’t see them any certain way. And even though the guys don’t feel about her the way I do, I know none of them would disrespect her. Ever.

Tonight, though, when I couldn’t find her…took me back to all those nights in high school when not being able to reach Olive meant that she wasn’t safe. Stranded at school after dark when her parents forgot to come get her, stuck at work when her parents forgot to come get her. You get the picture.

It’s not like we had public transportation where we grew up, and neither of us ever had any money for a cell phone back then. More times than I can count, I’d sneak my mom’s car out of the garage and make the circuit, searching for Olive. When I’d find her, we’d cling to each other like Velcro. Olive never cried, but she’d tremble in my arms and I knew she felt alone. Frightened. She always gets the shakes after something scary—I think it’s because she puts so much focus into staying cool during a crisis. I hate that Olive has so many crises.

So yeah. It freaks me out when she’s AWOL. One of the first things I did with my monthly stipend from SCU was buy cell phones for BOTH of us. Olive knows I’m here for her. Always.

I see the way this Justin asshole is looking at her before he takes off. He might be the head trainer, but he’s officially on my watch list. Olive seems completely unaware that this creep was inappropriate with her. He’s supposed to be her boss.

I drop a hand on her shoulder, needing to feel a connection with her, even if it’s sort of painful knowing it can’t be anything more than a reassuring touch. As I start to calm down, I realize what has me so freaked out right now.

“Liv, have you been drinking?”

She bites her bottom lip—that plump, red lip I’ve been fantasizing about sucking—and I know it’s true. “You never do that. Want to tell me what the hell happened tonight?”

Liv puts her hands in the pockets of her jeans and shrugs. “We were celebrating. We got the training room set up early, all the restocking done, and the whole staff went to the Dark Horse. I did a shot.”

I start shaking my head. This whole thing feels off, and it’s late as hell.

“Look,” she says. “It’s late. I have class in the morning. I’m so sorry I worried you, Bax, but I need to go to bed.”

There’s no way I’m leaving Olive alone after all this. She’s a small girl, and she’s not used to alcohol. Who even knows how big a shot Justin pushed on her. “You’re staying with me tonight,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward my building. She drops her mouth open to say something, and I stop walking. “Olive.” My heart is still racing. I close my eyes. Get it together, Morgan. “Come stay with me so I can make sure you’re ok when you wake up.” Her brown eyes are huge in the street light. She bites her lip. “Please?”

We’ve had sleepovers before. We slept together in that hammock for years. This is nothing new. Ok, so I’m usually on the couch these days. But I’m not even thinking of Olive that way. Not tonight. Tonight I just need to make sure she’s safe. She nods and I hug her close, walking her toward my place.

When I unlock the front door, the guys have all gone to bed. Shit, it’s really late. We have to be in the weight room in a few hours. I’m going to be wrecked in the morning. “Come on,” I nod my head toward my room. I hang Olive’s backpack on the hook in my closet and rummage in my drawer for a pair of sweats for her. “These will be huge, but they’re comfortable as hell.”

She shakes her head and sighs, but ducks into the bathroom to change. I strip down to my boxers and t-shirt and climb into bed, waiting for her to slide in next to me. When she climbs in bed, she scoots all the way to the far edge of the mattress like I’m going to let her sleep all the way over there. My breath catches in my throat as I pull her in close. She smells so fucking good. Like leaves and fresh air and my deodorant. We shared for awhile when we first went away to school. Olive told me she liked the smell of it and mine worked better than women’s deodorant. I take her word for it. I like that she walks around smelling like me. Maybe it sends a signal to other dudes to keep their hands off.

I rest my chin on her shoulder and feel her body begin to relax. “I’m so sorry I worried you, Bax,” she whispers. “I got caught up. Maybe I’ll just set my phone to Do Not Disturb next time…if you call it would come through since you’re my favorite.”

It’s been a long joke between us that, while I’ve got my coaching staff and my advisors saved as favorites in my phone, Olive has only me. I like being her favorite. “That’s a good idea,” I tell her, giving her