Page 73 of Thinking About You (Forever Yours 2)

“When I heard she was in a car accident, I had to come and make sure she was okay,” I say.

“Don’t you have a football game to play?” her mother asks.

I point at the brace on my knee. “Hurt myself during practice and got pulled from the game.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” She actually sounds sorry too. “Are you all right?”

“My season is over. I’ll have to have surgery.”

All three of them make the proper sympathetic noises, not that I’m here for their sympathy. I want to focus on Susanna.

“So she’s getting checked out today, right?” I ask her parents.

“I just spoke with the nurse, and she said the doctor should be here soon to sign the release papers. Then she’ll be free to go,” Harwood explains.

“We’ll be bringing her back to our home,” her mother says. “You’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Mother,” Susanna says, causing all of us to turn our attention to her. “Now that Cannon is here, I’d rather go back to my flat.”

Mom and Dad are hardcore frowning. They don’t like this idea one bit.

“Are you sure, Susanna?” her mother asks.

Susanna nods, her gaze locking with mine. “I’m positive. I know Cannon will take proper care of me.”

There are all sorts of things I want to respond to that declaration, and not a one of them is polite. So I clamp my lips shut and nod, hoping I look like a capable enough human being that’s able to take care of Susanna in her time of need.

“Very well then,” her mother says with an irritated sigh. “Though if you need us, you can always call.”

“Of course.” Susanna’s still looking at me, and the curve of her lips is downright irresistible. If we were alone, I’d be kissing her right now.

Maybe it’s good we’re not alone. I need to work on trying to control myself around her. She’s hurt. I’m hurt. We do something crazy, and we’re bound to get hurt even worse. I can’t chance it.

; Sounds like the next few days are going to be rough.

The moment Cannon slides into the driver’s seat of the huge Range Rover he rented and slams the door, I’m practically crowing with pleasure.

“Oh my gosh, you arrived in the nick of time, I swear!” Leaning over very carefully, I brush a kiss on his bristly cheek. He looks exhausted, yet he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, even when he’s tired.

He turns his head, our lips connecting, and just like that we’re kissing. For real. Our lips part and our tongues dance and my entire body is tingling. Yet all he’s doing is kissing me, not touching me anywhere else. Just lips on lips. Tongue on tongue.

I don’t ever want it to stop.

A horn honks and I realize we’re congesting the pickup/drop-off area in front of the hospital. “We should probably go,” I murmur against Cannon’s lips.

“It’s a long drive back to London,” he murmurs in return, kissing one corner of my mouth, then the other.

“I know,” I say with a sigh. “But just think of what we can do when we get to my flat.”

My words seem like a slap of reality. He shifts away from me, puts the car in drive, and pulls out, frowning as he grips the steering wheel. “We’re not doing anything like that for the next few days while you recover, Sus.”

“Seriously?” I sound like a child who’s wailing after her toy got taken away.

“I’m afraid I might hurt you. And my knee is all jacked up,” he mutters, staring straight ahead, his eyes never straying from the road.

I cross my arms and slump in the seat as best I can, but that hurts my ribs tremendously so I eventually straighten out and drop my arms to my sides. God, I can’t even pout correctly. “This is terrible.”