Page 73 of Doc Defence

“Sorry I wasn’t quicker.” Frost apologised.

“It wasn’t your fault. It’s a hazard of the job, unfortunately.” It wasn’t the first time a patient had managed to land a blow on her.

“If I hadn’t been sick, I would have got there in time,” Frost said.

“If you hadn’t been sick, you wouldn’t have been there at all, and it could have been worse without you.” Hel was grateful that Frost had dealt with her assailant so swiftly, as it always took a couple of minutes for security to arrive. “Anyway, let’s not talk about that, let’s watch movies!” She pointed toward the living room.

“Shall I grab drinks?” Frost asked.

“With what hands are you going to carry them?” Hel waved at the crutches he was using for balance.

“Fair point. I’ll go and sit down.” He began to hop away.

“I want the right side of the sofa!” Hel yelled after him as she picked up a bowl in each hand and wedged two cans of lemonade in the pocket of her sweatshirt.

Well, she should say Frost’s sweatshirt. She was very lacking in lounging clothes after the fire and had been moaning to him about it as she had lost her absolute favourite hoody, which was cosy and big enough that she could pull both her arms inside it if she wanted to.

Frost had told her to wait a minute, then hopped upstairs and came back down with the sweatshirt she was currently wearing. She tried to refuse it, but he insisted she take it, stating he got it free from the Vancouver Vultures when he played for them. It even had his name embroidered on the back.

When she put it on, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from sniffing the collar. It smelt like Frost, and it swamped her, making it the ideal comfy, television-watching sweatshirt.

“You snooze, you lose,” Frost called back.

“Fine, I’m picking the first movie. I hope you’re ready for a rom-com,” Hel shouted through the door as she walked carefully, trying not to spill the overfull bowls of popcorn.

“Finnneeeeeee. You have the right side,” Frost grumbled and shuffled across.

Hel placed the two bowls onto a tray in the middle of the sofa and sat down, grinning triumphantly as she snatched the remote off the floor.

“By the way. I’ve got the remote. Soooooooo, Rom-com? We should watch Notting Hill.”

“Nope!” Frost answered and grabbed a bit of popcorn, chucking it at her.

“What do you want then?” Hel leaned forward.

“It looks good on you,” Frost said quietly.

Hel glanced across at him. “What?”

He was staring at the back of her sweatshirt. She wasn’t sure how he could say the hoodie looked good on her, it was a million sizes too big and built for comfort, not fashion.

Frost cleared his throat. “Sorry?”

Hel sat back and looked at him quizzically. “You said it looks good on me?”

“Oh, yeah. Well.” Frost flushed bright red.

Hel’s mind whirled. All she could think was that he was looking at his name on her back, and he liked it. No, that was totally not what he meant. He must have meant she looked cosy. Yeah, that was it.

She changed the subject. “What shall we watch then? Notting Hill?”

Frost admitted he had never seen it before, and after a few minutes of debate with Hel pointing out, forcefully, many times that it was a classic and he needed to watch it, he huffed and agreed.

“What did you think?” Hel asked as the final credits rolled.

“It was okay,” Frost muttered gruffly.

“Okay! You just watched one of the classic rom-coms, and it was only okay!” Hel exclaimed.

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