5. Jessica

Chapter 5

Jessica

Harrison looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders as he talks with Noah. I want to smooth the frown lines from his forehead, hold him close, and lighten the load he seems to be carrying.

I’ve never met anyone like Harrison Tensly. I think he claimed my heart the second I gazed into those delicious brown eyes. I’m no ravishing beauty, but I’m not bad looking. Still, I seem to attract guys—like Timothy Tithead—who think I’m up for a meaningless one-nightstand, and that’s not me.

Not that there’s anything wrong with a woman being sexually confident. I’m just . . . not. Almost twenty-two, and I’ve never done the deed. Although, I can imagine doing it with Harrison—multiple times.

I had a boyfriend a few years ago—someone a bit like Timothy, come to think of it—but it was short-lived. When he got a little too rough with his advances, I dumped his ass andnever looked back. I’m not precious over my virtue, but I want to be with someone who gives a crap about my enjoyment, not a guy whose idea of foreplay is pinning me to a wall by my throat.

Somehow, I know Harrison would never use his physical strength to hurt a woman, only to bring her pleasure. The thought makes me shiver, and I turn to look at him as Noah plucks Elli away to dance. Our eyes connect, and the sizzle of chemistry arcing between us almost makes me groan aloud. I may be a virgin, but I know lust when it hits me in the nether regions. I’m so utterly connected to this man that the thought of him leaving here without me seems . . . absurd. Wrong.

His eyes kindle as he moves toward me. I’m rooted to the spot, the prey of a powerful animal, and I have no desire to run away from the promise in his eyes. If anything, I want to run toward him, sink into him and have him sink into me in the most primal way.

“Did you survive the inquisition?” he asks, indicating the redheaded journalist working the room.

“She went easy on me. And she didn’t ask anything hockey-related, thank goodness,” I reply, relieved. “I know there are seven hockey positions, and you’re an enforcer, but I have no clue what an enforcer does.” I pause and shake my head. “That came out wrong. I didn’t mean?—”

He smiles and holds up a hand to stall me. “I know what you meant. But in the interests of furthering your hockey education, it’s the enforcer’s job to protect the rest of the team, primarily the forwards. Keep the opposing team away from them so they can do what they do best—score.”

“But you said they’re not renewing your contract? Why?”

“The NHL, the National Hockey League, have gradually been phasing out the enforcer position over the last few years. Noah’s been telling me to expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier, particularly this close to winning the Stanley Cup.”

“I’m sorry, Harrison,” I say, reaching out to touch his forearm. His very warm, muscular forearm.

“Noah just offered me a job working with him, and I’m grateful, but I’ve never done anything like that.”

“What does Noah do?”

“He was a professional hockey player too but retired several years ago after a back injury. He’s a sports agent now. He headhunts new talent and represents them in contractual wars between teams, getting the best deal for the player. He is brilliant at it.”

“Seems like you have the experience for that kind of career, too,” I observe, taking a sip of my drink.

“What about you?”

His question catches me off guard. I’m accustomed to people asking about Harmony Mack, not me. “What about me?”

“You’re the PA forHarmony Mack, which must get a little intense at times. Did you always want to do that?”

I consider his question. “I didn’t intend for this to be my life, but I grew up around it. I was always part of Mack’s music scene, so I suppose this was a natural progression.” I pause, realizing how that might sound. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, and you’re right, it can be intense at times. Especially when we’re sick of each other and the bickering starts.” I grin. “Harmony gives me time off when that happens.”

I startle as Mack suddenly appears beside me. I was so engrossed in my conversation with Harrison that I didn’t realize their set had ended.

“Okay, sis?” he asks with a concerned look. “I saw that guy spill his drink on you. Need me to take care of it?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. Harrison handled it.”

Mack frowns as he turns to look at the taller man. He holds out a hand to Harrison. “Mack Solomon. Thanks for stepping in back there,” he says, tipping his head toward the bar.

Harrison shakes his hand. “No problem. Only an asshole spills a drink on a lady to get an introduction.”

Harmony joins Mack, flushed from their time on stage, and I suddenly realize I don’t have their glasses of water ready for them. I excuse myself and head back to the bar. Timothy’s beady eyes seek me out as I walk the short distance, but he makes no move to approach me. Still, I shudder as the bartender pours two glasses of water and slides them across the bar to me.

The headache that threatened earlier is blooming behind my right eye, and suddenly I want to leave, get out of this stinky dress and curl up in bed in my hotel room.

Iturn tocarrythe glasses of water back to the table. Harmony is chatting with Elli, and Mack is talking with Harrison and Noah. Harrison’s head turns, watching me intentlyas I navigate between the guests.

He makes his way toward me, meeting me halfway. “Let me help,” he says, taking the glasses in his huge hands.

The muscles in his back ripple beneath his shirt as he walks away, and I bite my lip. What could he possibly see in me? He must have attractive women throwing themselves at him on a nightly basis.

As we join the others, I drop into an empty chair. The throb behind my right eye is now a full-blown headache. My stomach churns slightly, and I hope I’m not about to get one of my migraines. Organizing this event and the run-in with Timothy earlier has stressed me more than I realized.

“You okay?” Harrison asks, seeing me rubbing my temple.

I summon a smile. “Just a headache.”

He cups my chin, tilting my head up to him and rubbing his thumb over my cheek. “You look pale. Do you have painkillers?”

I shake my head. “Didn’t think I’d need them. I have some back at the hotel.”

I frown as Harrison stands and walks to Mack, bending to say something in his ear.

Mack’s concerned gaze swings to me, and he makes his way over, crouching in front of me. “Migraine, sis?”

“No, but I think it’s heading that way,” I reply as the warning aura shimmers in my right eye.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel,” he says, tugging me to my feet.

“I can’t. The auction hasn’t started yet. And you and Harmony need to stay. You’re the guests of honor,” I protest, squinting at him through the sparkles now obscuring my eye.

“I’ll get her back to the hotel and make sure she takes her meds,” Harrison says, moving close and wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

I instinctively lean into his big, warm body, relishing his strength.

Mack looks torn—ever the protective brother. Then he nods, obviously deciding Harrison can be trusted with my welfare. “Thanks, Harrison. Let me call Max to come get you.”

Mack gives Harrison the name of our hotel, and before I know it, Harrison is sweeping me outside and into the waiting limo. It’s times like this that I’m glad Mack employs a driver.

Harrison tugs me against him on the back seat, and I close my eyes, focusing on taking deep breaths as Max gets us to the hotel in record time. I’m vaguely aware of taking the elevator to my floor, and Harrison digs my keycard from my small purse.

He helps me to the bed, and I sink on the edge as nausea bubbles up my throat. With a strangled moan, I stagger to the bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach down the toilet. Gentle fingers scoop my hair away from my face as I heave until my stomach is empty.

Strong hands lift me, and a toothbrush and toothpaste appear in my line of vision. I quickly brush my teeth and rinse my mouth, splashing cold water on my face. Harrison helps me back to the bedroom and guides me carefully onto the bed. I groan and squeeze my eyes shut. My head feels like it’s going to split wide open.

“Where are your meds, angel?” Harrison asks softly.

“Travel bag. Front pocket,” I slur.

A minute later, I’m lifted into a sitting position. Harrison hands me a glass of water and two pills, and I chug them down. I tug at my dress, which smells like a mixture of beer and vomit.

“Lift your arms, Jess.”

I do as he instructs, shivering as he tugs my dress over my head and cool air hits my flesh. Usually, I’d be mortified at having him see me in my underwear, with my soft belly and chunky thighs on full display. But my head is pounding, and I can’t seem to give a damn.

I lie down, and the covers are pulled over me. “Don’t leave,” I rasp, reaching out to snag Harrison’s hand as he starts to move away. I crack my eyes open and squint up at him. “Stay. Please.”

He nods, lying beside me on top of the covers, and I burrow into him. “You’re a nice man, Harrison Tensly. Thanks for holding my hair back while I barfed.”

His chuckle rumbles through me where my head rests on his chest. “Those pain meds kicking in yet?”

“A little,” I sigh, snuggling closer.

“Go to sleep, angel,” he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair.

I slide into unconsciousness.

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