Read Online Claire (Hart University Book 2) by Abigail Strom - Free Book Online

to do now was figure out how to do that when he was in the room.

Chapter Seven
    Coming down the stairs, I could see twenty or thirty people in the living room. It wasn’t the crowd we’d had last time, but it was starting to look like a party.
    I went into the kitchen without stopping to say hi to anyone.
    It was almost a relief to be away from Claire. The way she looked at me… the way she touched me…
    “Will!”
    I’d just grabbed the ice packs from the freezer. At the sound of my name, I turned around.
    A girl I didn’t recognize was standing in the doorway. Her Panthers T-shirt was a size too small for her, which sort of put a spotlight on her breasts. She had long blond hair a little darker than Claire’s and blue eyes a little lighter.
    She crossed the kitchen to give me a huge hug. Was it possible I actually knew this girl?
    “I’m Brittany,” she said, which probably meant I didn’t.
    The hug was over but she was definitely still in my personal space. She gazed up at me soulfully, which was a little embarrassing.
    I’d had experience with the whole athletic fifteen minutes of fame thing back in high school. That was actually the reason Lissa first went out with me, although our relationship turned into more than that. But after we broke up, I decided I wouldn’t go out with another football groupie—and I wouldn’t rely on football to attract girls.
    Did that make me a hypocrite for being glad Claire was at the game today? Maybe. Probably.
    But I was glad all the same.
    “You were awesome today. Does this hurt?” Brittany asked, reaching out toward the bruise on my jaw. I jerked my head away, not wanting anyone but Claire to touch me like that.
    “Sorry,” I said. “It’s a little sore.”
    “Of course,” she said quickly, backing off a half step but keeping her eyes on mine. “Do you want any help with your ice packs? I could… you know… hold them on you.”
    There are some people who have the ability to make anything sound like a sexual invitation. Brittany was one of those people.
    I felt my face getting red and I was glad no one else was around to witness my lack of coolness.
    “I think I’m good,” I said. “Maybe I’ll see you later?”
    “Count on it,” she said, giving me a slow, very sexy smile.
    I slipped past her and headed for the stairs.
    Back up in my room, Claire was all business. She’d gotten a bunch of supplies from the bathroom and was sitting cross-legged on the bed.
    “Let me start with your face,” she said. As I sat down beside her, it occurred to me that if she’d said Let me start by cutting off your left ear, I would have gone along with that, too.
    She poured hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball and dabbed it on my forehead, and it wasn’t the liquid that made my skin tingle. Then she opened the little tube of Neosporin, squeezed out a pea-sized dollop, and smoothed it gently over the cut.
    Now it was more than tingling. I was practically shivering.
    I couldn’t look away from her face while she worked on me. She looked focused and serious, a single frown line between her eyebrows.
    She didn’t put peroxide on my lip but she did dab on a little Neosporin. Then she applied a small square bandage to the cut on my forehead and sat back in satisfaction at her handiwork.
    “Okay, let me see the bruise on your side.”
    I pulled off my T-shirt obediently, wishing like hell I had a bruise lower down.
    “Hold this,” she said, putting one of the ice packs against my ribs. I kept it there while she wound a long strip of gauze around my waist to bind it in place.
    “Good,” she said, scooting back on the bed when she was done. “Keep that on for fifteen minutes, okay? And you should ice again before you go to bed. Oh, and you should take ibuprofen. It’s good for pain, of course, but it’s also an anti-inflammatory and will help control the swelling.”
    She shook out tablets from a bottle and handed them to me, along with a glass of