Stone Creek by Davis, Lainey (reading diary .TXT) 📕

“You should be good to go, son,” Doc says. “I agree with Justin’s assessment and treatment plan. I’ll get it written up and sent to Coach Burns.”

“It was Olive, sir,” I tell him.

“Come again?”

“Olive figured out what was wrong. That Justin fucker brushed it off and—”

Olive places a finger over my lips and I stop talking. Doc looks confused and clicks his pen open and closed a few times. “Want me to make note that Ms. Hampton provided valuable insight?”

“Just make sure her name gets in there,” I tell him. “Hey, can I go shower?”

When I get dismissed, I tell Olive to wait for me in the hall, and I spend a half hour just letting the scalding water roll off my body. The shot is supposed to take awhile to be effective, so Doc gave me painkillers.

“Morgan, you coming out with us?” Scotty and Alex are dressed for the club, with slicked back hair and too much cologne. I should go out. It’s my senior year. I should celebrate a W.

“I think I gotta go sleep this one off,” I say. “I jacked up my shoulder.”

“You need someone to help you get home?” Scotty looks like he wished he hadn’t offered.

I shake my head and shut off the tap. “Olive is here.” They seem relieved. She’ll take care of me. She always does.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Olive

I can tell Bax is really hurting when he finally finds me in the hall. I snagged another bag of ice from the training room while he was showering. “Looks like you and I have a date with the Roku tonight,” I tell him, shaking the bag of ice at him. “Let’s get you home.”

Bax doesn’t say much as we walk to his car. I can tell he’s really in pain because he lets me drive his beat up old pickup. “Didn’t Doc give you some pain meds? You really should take something,” I tell him.

He studies me for a minute, and fishes a pill bottle from his sweatpants pocket. I hand him my water bottle and he swallows the pills as I’m parking outside his building. “Let’s get you comfortable,” I tell him.

By the time I have Bax on the couch with the bag of ice strapped to his shoulder, he’s drowsy and loopy from the pain meds. As he dozes off, I order takeout and perch on the edge of the couch.

My timer goes off to remove his ice, and as I’m pulling the plastic from his skin, his eyes fly open. His pupils are dilated and I know the meds have kicked in. “Liv,” he says. “Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?”

I blush. “That’s awfully nice of you to say, Baxter Morgan. Thank you.” I tug the bag of ice free and toss it on the coffee table. “Let’s get your shirt back on.”

But he yanks me against his chest with his good arm. “No,” he says. “I want to feel you, Livvy.” His speech is slurred and I know he’s not thinking clearly. But god, it does feel nice to have my hands pressed against the warm, muscled expanse of his chest.

His good arm is wrapped tightly around my waist, holding me close against him. I wriggle around a bit, not wanting to hurt him, and I realize his muscles aren’t the only thing that’s hard right now.

I can’t help myself. I glance down at his sweatpants, where he evidently has a baseball bat stashed in his boxers. “Want you so bad,” he mutters, and then he thrusts his hips up against me.

I flush from the top of my scalp to the tips of my toes. This is everything I’ve fantasized about, except he’s messed up on pain meds and has no idea what he’s saying. “Bax, why don’t you let me get up and get you a drink, ok?”

But he doesn’t let me get up. He rolls his hips against my jeans, moaning a little and when I meet his chocolate eyes, they’re molten. “Always want you,” he says, his tongue thick from the medication. His hand slips from around my waist and he takes my hand in his, bringing it to the stiff, throbbing erection under his sweats.

I suck in my breath. He’s so hard. So hot. He presses my hand against his dick and groans with need. “Olive,” he says. My breath comes fast and shallow. I can feel my heart beating in my ears. I have no idea what to do, except I know that this can’t happen. Not now. Not when he’s messed up like this and has no idea what he’s even asking me.

He lifts his head from the couch and captures my mouth in a gentle kiss and I feel a moan begin deep within me, escaping into his soft lips as they press against mine hungrily. How many times have I fantasized about kissing Baxter? Oh god, I’m kissing him back now, my tongue searching and roaming over his teeth. This is so wrong, but it feels better than almost anything I’ve ever done before.

“Delivery!” I hear a knock at the door and I spring up from Baxter’s grasp. My heart is racing and his head drops back down on the arm of the couch.

I open the door and snatch the food bag, thanking the delivery guy, and I set everything on the counter. I stand in the kitchen, catching my breath, smoothing out my hair. He won’t remember any of this, I tell myself. This is all the pain meds.

“Think you can eat, Bax?” I stick my head around the corner to the living room, and I see that he’s sound asleep on the couch, still shirtless.

I pick at the food and put it away, never taking