But now…her thoughts were coming back to the situation at hand. They pinched at her brain, made her stomach clench with stress. She'd promised Heath last night that she'd be there for him throughout the whole tournament, and she wanted to prove that to him. She wanted to prove that no matter what happened, she would always be there to support him the way he did her. But as the thought of what that would entail—walking back into an arena full of people after being labeled a rape and attempted murder victim—came over her, she instantly regretted her promise. She would go through with it—she had to—but she now wished she would have listened to him and agreed with him when he told her he thought it might be too much.
She thought back to the reporter that had tried to speak to her and Connor and Lana earlier that day—Marty Brown. He'd been slippery, slimy and altogether sneaky. Then there was Carter. Aside from noting the way he'd voluntarily left her behind in the crowd, she hadn't missed the look of shock and then cold anger on his face when Heath fired him. She still thought that was a spontaneous move on Heath's part, and one not well thought out—they owned the gym together. What would happen now?
She shuddered as a wave of negative emotion went over her. She couldn't help feeling responsible for this nasty turn of events. She knew that was silly, that she hadn't done anything directly, but if Heath had not gotten mixed up with her, none of this would ever have happened.
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly turned the water off and went to open the door. Heath stood there, his sweatpants tugged on haphazardly, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice deep with sleep. "You been in here a while."
"I'm…okay," she replied, deciding it was the only word she could use. She was great as far as they went; but thinking about the situation surrounding it had dampened her mood considerably. But the sight of him, shirtless, in a pair of low-slung sweatpants and nothing else was distracting her and making her feel tingly again. She licked her lips.
"You feel…all right?" he asked, folding his arms. "You're not in any pain or anything?"
She smiled and reached out, unable to stop herself from touching his stomach. "Not, like, in a bad way."
He looked mystified, his eyes following the movement of her hand as it stroked along his skin. She didn't miss the slight jerking movement just under the fabric of his pants. "Is there a good way to be in pain?"
She looked up at him as she allowed her fingers to brush ever so lightly over the front of his sweatpants, confirming that he was swelled and ready for her the way she craved and was ready for his body again. She pushed him lightly backward out of the bathroom, turning off the light.
"There is definitely a way to be in pain in a good way," she whispered and reached up to unzip his sweatshirt from around her body, letting it fall to the floor around her feet as his tongue swept out over his lip, his eyes moving over her naked body. She gave him another light push and he sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands reaching for her hips and sliding up her sides. "Let me show you."
***
Connor left Lana, Heath, Drew and John eating a quiet breakfast on the patio of the hotel later that morning. He was glad to see that Drew seemed to be doing a lot better than yesterday. Things felt a bit awkward now that he, and every other fucking person inside that arena and/or who watched the ESPN or the news, knew just what she had been through. It made him furious; he was a father to two beautiful little girls and a husband to a beautiful, amazing wife, and had formerly been a teacher to a lot of really smart teenage girls who had unlimited potential in the world. The thought of something that hideous happening to any one of them made him feel sick to his stomach.
He felt a strange mixture of pity and pride for his baby brother. The Heath he used to know would never have devoted his time and effort to someone who had gone through what Drew had. That Heath would have gone running in the other direction. But now, here was his little brother, obviously smitten with the girl, being careful not to stifle or smother her, but standing silently behind her, ready to do whatever he needed in order to keep her safe and to help her heal. Yesterday's reveal had taken a toll on him as well, and Connor could not recall another time when he'd seen such fury on his brother's face. Even at their worst moments together, Heath had always possessed a kind of careful, controlled anger; Connor had never seen Heath fully lose his temper before. For a moment, he'd actually been scared of his younger brother. It had taken every ounce of strength he possessed combined with John's to prevent Heath from making a huge mistake.