I've always hated Valentine's Day. Ever since I was younger, before it was mandatory that every kid gives every other kid in class a valentine. Not that my box was ever empty, but I stressed the entire night before about whether a girl would drop one in my box.

Grady and Mia stayed in Seoul to celebrate and Beckett and Skylar were hanging out with her family.

After my morning workout I headed to the local stores and now I’m knocking on the familiar door of Demi Harrison.

“Hey you.” She swings the door wide open and heads back to the desk where she continues putting on her makeup.

I hold up the two bags in my hand. “Happy Valentine's Day.”

Her mouth hangs open, surprise etched in every one of her features. “I didn't get you anything.”

I take a seat and pat the spot next to me on the bed. She stands, a frown forming on her face the closer she gets to me.

“Relax. It's not a diamond necklace.”

She sits down. “Well, break my heart why don't you.” The grin on her face says she's not serious.

Why would she be? The words about how she expects nothing from me keep rattling around in my head. Something I’m not used to.

“Bag one.” I hold out the red gift bag with no tissue paper and nothing to make it seem even remotely special by any means. I keep telling myself I don’t want her to make a big deal about it.

She sets it on her lap, glancing my way before opening it.

“Oh my God, I'm going to have to hide these.” She pulls out a bunch of candy bars, suckers, and chips. She leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“That was for drawer number one. Now for drawer number two.” I hand her the pink bag. The one that took me a while to find, but luckily Koreans are as horny as the rest of the world apparently.

Her smile widens, but she appears hesitant to open it. She peeks in and then shuts it, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

“Don't act shy.” I chuckle.

She slowly opens the bag and her hands take out each item. “A cock ring, handcuffs, a blindfold, and a feather.”

“I didn't know how freaky you'd get, so I kept it conservative. I figured you didn't have much in drawer number two as far as sex toys you can use with someone else.”

She sets the bag on the bed next to the array of toys. “Why do you assume that?”

Her face is straight-laced and I think I offended her. “Well—”

“Do you think I'm a prude?”

“No, I—”

“That I’d never do anything but missionary? I think I've proven to you, my experience isn't limited.”

“Well, yeah, wait.” I raise my hand. “What are we talking about here? Like the number of partners you’ve had? Or have you had the lesbo experience? Tell me all about it.”

Images flash through my mind and, oh hell yeah, if we’re talking lesbo shit I wanna know all about it.

She pushes me on the chest and I collapse to her pillow. Crawling up my body, she swings a leg on either side of me.

“You want to hear about me and Skylar? How before you came, we'd share that small bed over there?” Her hands are planted on my chest, my hands molded to her hips.

“Anyone but Skylar and I'd be all game,” I deadpan.

“Mia?” she asks.

“Shit. No. Someone else.”

She laughs falling on top of me, her hand running along my cheek in the most affectionate way anyone has ever done causing shivers to race over my skin.

I roll us over.

“Ouch.” She squirms, and I pick up my head to look at her.

“I know I'm rock solid, but you've never complained before?”

She shakes her head, a smile teasing her lips. “I fell this morning.”

“Where?” I sit up, my eyes scouring her body like I have x-ray vision and can see through her clothes.

“My hip, but I'm fine.” She waves me off, but my hands unbutton her jeans, pulling them down.

“I'm fine, really.”

“Lift your ass.”

She does.

“Dax, it's nothing that I haven't dealt with before.”

I get her jeans to mid-thigh, and she rolls over. Sure enough, there’s a huge bruise on her left hip and ass.

“Shit, Demi,” My hand hesitantly runs over her injury.

“Remember this next time you think I'm chicken for not wanting to go on a rollercoaster.”

She laughs it off, but I don't find it very funny. It's all black and blue and will definitely affect her upcoming performance in the Classics.

“Demi, it's bad. Did your mom see it, the trainers?”

She nods, sucks in a breath and her eyes are glass so I know she's fighting tears. I just don’t know if it’s the pain from the injury or something else. “It's the cost of competing at this level. You know that as well as I do. Now.”

She holds out her arms, but I can't in good faith handcuff her to the bed like I planned. I had visions of being more on the rough side, but she's already dealt with enough today.

I shake my head getting up from the bed and walk into the bathroom.

“Dax,” she sighs.

I come back out of the bathroom, grabbing her jacket off the hanger on the back of the door. “Pull up your pants.”

Her back is resting on her headboard. “That's not something I ever thought I’d hear you say.”

“Trust me, me either, but we're going to my room.”

Rising to her feet, she buttons her jeans.

“And grab a pair of sweatpants.”

“Sweatpants and Valentine's Day don't really mix.”

“You underestimate yourself. You can make sweatpants sexy.” I waggle my eyebrows.

She stops all movement, her eyes on me, a smile on her lips. “Did you just compliment me?”

I grab her hand, placing her jacket in it. “You act like I never say nice things to you.”

“Well...”

I shake my head, we're not going to start a fight when she needs to get some damn ice on that injury.

“What about the bag?” she asks once we’re half out the door.

I head back in the room, grab bag number one and join her at the door.

“I was thinking bag number two,” she says in a low voice that almost has me turning around to grab it off the bed.

“Are you crazy? There's no sex play tonight.” I grab her hand and we start walking down the hall after she locks her door.

“What fun is that? I want to use all the toys you bought.”

A group of guys looks at us as I'm dragging her down the hall.

“Let her use the toys, man,” one dipshit shouts once he's a good distance away.

“Mind your own fucking business,” I yell back.

The group laugh and head down the stairway.

After a few minutes, we reach the door to my room.

“This seems so unnecessary,” she says. “I get bruises all the time.”

I dig into my jacket for the keys. “Yeah, but you probably didn't have your prelims so soon after.”

She saddles up to me, her fingers raking down the front of my shirt and then she twists her hand and palms my dick through my pants. “I don't want you to take it easy tonight.”

“Good thing it's not your choice.” I open my door. “Now it's not all pretty and nice like yours, but it has what we need.”

She steps into my personal space, her eyes taking in the empty walls, the half-made bed, the clothes thrown over the desk chair.

“I said no judging.” I head to the bathroom to grab the ace bandage and towels.

“It's very minimalistic.”

“Is that a nice way to say ugly?” I ask.

She's sitting on my bed when I get out and I head to the mini fridge and freezer, grabbing a couple of ice packs.

“No. I'm just surprised you have nothing personal here.”

She eyes Grady's side of the room where there’s a neatly made bed, although I guarantee that was Mia. But he does have pictures of his family, all of his shit lined up nicely, whereas my deodorant and hair gel are strewn across my dresser along with spare change and anything else I dig out of my pockets at night.

“We're here for only a few weeks.” I shrug then wave my hand in the air for her to stand.

She obliges, but her eyes are still scrutinizing where I sleep.

My hands move to the button of her jeans, and then the zipper. Her lids grow heavy as she watches. I pull them down to the floor and she steps out of them, her fingers now threading through my hair for balance.

Being eye level with her pussy and seeing the wet spot on her panties, doesn’t exactly make it easy to do the right thing. But more than I want to get laid right now, I want to do the right thing by Demi and I’m choosing to ignore why that might be the case.

I lean forward, inhaling her scent and placing my lips on the wet silk of her panties. Her hands tighten in my hair and for a second, I consider ripping the fabric from her body.

“I'm going to miss you tonight,” I say.

She giggles, and I rise to my feet, kissing her lips.

“You're cockblocking yourself?”

Needing just one more taste of her, I grip the back of her neck and pull her to me. She yelps but the surprise quickly falls away as she meets the frantic pace of my kiss.

I pull away abruptly. “Okay, focus, Dax,” I say to myself. “Lay down on your side.” I nod at the bed behind her.

“Hmm...that sounds promising.”

She lays down on my bed in my sheets and I chastise myself mentally for how much I seem to like that. Demi flinches when I press the towel covered ice pack over her bruise. I've been where she is, and I know it sucks balls, but she's got to heal a bit before her event.

Wrapping the ace bandage around her leg, my fingers graze her panties more than once and my poor, frustrated dick twitches each and every time. She’s not helping—each time my fingers brush against the silk a small moan escapes her. I have to blink to make my eyes focus on my goal.

After she's all set, I put a pillow under her thigh and hand her the remote. “You need to sit there twenty minutes with the ice.”

She takes the remote, resting it in her hand.

I turn to step away, but her hand grips mine. “Dax.”

Her voice is so soft I can barely hear her, but I turn back around.

“Thank you.”

I swear her eyes look watery, but why would they be? All I did was wrap her leg and refuse to have sex with her.

“We're friends, right?” I ask, re-establishing the boundaries we put in place.

Her lips dip slightly before she smiles. “Yeah. Friends.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat and go to my fridge, grabbing us some electrolyte fruit drinks. Maybe I should have just slept with her. Seems like it would’ve been easier.